


MEET UGLY (Haikyuu Edition)

by redbirb



Series: Haikyuu Prompt Challenge [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Hackers, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - Office, Athlete AU, Awkward first meeting, Blind Date, Drunken Flirting, F/F, F/M, House Party, M/M, Matchmaking, Meet Ugly AU, Multi, Paparazzi AU, Phone sex operator AU, Physical Disability, Physical Therapy, Private Investigator AU, Secret Relationship, Single Dad AU, Supervillain AU, Wedding Planning, Winter, sorry for all the tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 06:24:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 42
Words: 24,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20774006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redbirb/pseuds/redbirb
Summary: A writing challenge I put myself through this month based on a set of prompts. It's mostly short explorations of each prompt. Read the title of each chapter for pairings.Find the prompt list here ;https://www.pillowfort.social/posts/274308





	1. Yahaba/Kyoutani

01\. we were set up on a blind date but it went horribly, so now you message me every time you have a good date because you think your tips will help me in the future, you ass  
Pairing : Yahaba/Kyoutani

Kyoutani is ripped from his nap by the buzz of his phone. Lifting his head, he wipes the drool from the side of his mouth with a hand, palming his phone with the other. The minute he sees the text message preview, he’s ready to throw the damn thing against the wall.

[from : PIECE OF SHIT]  
[ _this guy gave me a single rose. just met him!! That’s what you should be doing_ ]

Deleting and ignoring the message would be easier than trying to come up with a scathing comeback. The dating pool was not kind to a gruff guy like him and ever since he’d gone on that dumb blind date set up by his “friend” Oikawa, he was regretting diving back into this kind of mess.

The blind date had, predictably, gone very bad.

In his defense, Kyoutani was not the only one at fault. The guy, apparently one of Oikawa’s old schoolmate’s, was too absorbed in talking about himself and getting validation for all of his frivolous life achievements instead of, you know, having actual conversation. Kyoutani wasn’t the best at talking in general, but he’d planned to try while on the date ; being single will do that to a lonely young hermit. All he had was grunts and short nods for whatever the hell the guy was spewing about swimming contests and college degrees. And apparently the guy, Yahaba, took great offense to Kyoutani’s lack of interest.

It ended with shouting and a thrown ice tea staining one of his favorite band shirts. He’d chewed Oikawa out for it when he got home and swore off dating for the rest of his pathetic existence.

That wasn’t, however, the end of his interaction with Yahaba.

Unsolicited dating advice followed from an unknown number a week after the bad blind date. At first he’d been terribly confused and pissed to high hell. Then the small light bulb in his tiny brain buzzed to life and he figured out the culprit (and knew just who had given away his number, Bastard-kawa). For three straight weeks, almost every day, Kyoutani would receive messages from Yahaba, varying degrees of ‘_you should do this next time you go out on a date_’ and ‘_now THIS is how you treat your date_’ to ‘_first impressions are godly and this one guy i went out with did this_’.

He didn’t know why he kept the number or the multitude of texts he’s accumulated over time. He’d only replied once and that was to tell the guy to ‘_piss the hell off, vain shithead_’. That hadn’t deterred the last three weeks having his phone buzzing every damn day. In a way it was annoying and in the same vein kind of nice. Kyoutani couldn’t explain it, but the longer he had contact, even if one-sided, the less lonely he felt, the more he wanted to understand the other.

Kyoutani allows his thumb to hover over the text, contemplative. This could be a huge mistake, but when did he ever care about leaping into trouble?

[to : PIECE OF SHIT]  
[ _lame. when will you stop texting me your bullshit?_ ]

And there is the leap. He lays there in bed, waiting, silently hoping. The buzz comes two minutes later and he shouldn’t feel as excited as he does.

[from : PIECE OF SHIT]  
[ _when you figure out how to date, loser_ ]

For some reason that makes him grin, moving to sit up against the headboard as he types.

[to : PIECE OF SHIT]  
[ _try me, asshole_ ]  
[ _our date was a disaster bc of you remember_ ]

[from : PIECE OF SHIT]  
[ _HA! you must have a very selective memory_ ]

[to : PIECE OF SHIT]  
[ _i remember you being boring as shit_ ]

[from : PIECE OF SHIT]  
[ _excuse you! you’re freaking rude!_ ]

[to : PIECE OF SHIT]  
[ _get a mirror. so were you_ ]

Kyoutani doesn’t get a response for ten minutes then throws his phone down. He gets up for a sandwich and soda, but stops short when his phone starts ringing. A bundle of nerves drops into his stomach when he picks it up and sees the caller I.D.

Answering, lump in his throat. “What the fuck?”

“That’s how you answer the phone?” A breathy laugh filters through the speaker, causing static to burst into his ear for a second. “How charming.”

“Why did you call,” he asks more gruffly, sitting down on his bed again.

“To tell you that you’re rude.”

“Asswipe.”

“And that maybe you had a point.”

Kyoutani is genuinely shocked, confused by the admittance. “About what?”

“We got off on the wrong foot, we both didn’t really help the situation.” At his stunned silence, Yahaba continues,” And maybe, if you ask nicely, I’ll give you a second chance.”

“The fuck would I do that for?”

A deep sigh. “Look, as nice as these dates have been, the guys I’ve met are stale and boring. You’re… well, different. I think that giving it another shot sounds like a good idea.”

There is a nervous edge to the ending statement, a tentative hand reaching out, waiting to be grabbed or slapped away. Kyoutani didn’t realize he’d been waiting for this chance, hadn’t realized it was ever an option.

“I play guitar.”

“Oh? You didn’t mention that before.”

“Didn’t get the chance,” he pokes ruthlessly, grinning as he flops onto his back as giddiness starts to tingle along his spine. “I can do better than stupid flowers.”

“Are you promising to serenade me?” It’s teasing and not the kind that judges him.

“Depends. When are you free?”

“Friday. Same place, same time?”

Kyoutani takes a moment to hesitate, to chew his lip as he tries to fight this growing enthusiasm overtaking his body. “Yeah, I’ll meet you there. Don’t throw tea on me this time.”

“No promises,” Yahaba laughs.


	2. Terushima/Misaki

02\. I bought a house three months ago but I’m finally moving in and discover you’ve been squatting because you’re homeless  
Pairing : Terushima/Misaki

Misaki prowled the neighborhood for a year before buying a house on the cul-de-sac’s little corner of the world. Moving out of a big city to a small town was the best decision of her life, a place to peacefully live out her dream. As an author, she had travelled a lot, doing research, spending days at a time with her editors to pitch out novel after novel.

That, as it turns out, was exhausting work and not being able to come home was taking a mental toll. After her book tour ended, that would no longer be a problem.

Her bestfriend, Runa, had suggested it. “Buy a house! You’ll be able to write better with a clear and quiet place at your fingertips. Besides, city life gets old real fast.”

It wasn’t that Misaki hated the city, with its bustling community of office workers crowding the train every morning, with its shiny, bright street lamps at night and loud, music-blaring clubs spilling out drunk patrons at four a.m. What she needed was a change.

The house fit her criteria of perfect home for a single lady. Two stories, three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a large kitchen and living room for fun parties if she felt inclined. The neighborhood was relatively quiet, an elderly couple on the right and a family of four on the left. She was so excited to finally settle in three months later after she finished her last book tour.

“Who are you,” she screamed in surprise.

“Oh, uh, hi.”

In stunned disbelief, Misaki stares at the figure in her kitchen. She does not have a boyfriend, she does not know him. “What are you doing in my house?”

“So you’re the owner. Yeah, I’ve been here for, like, two months.”

He doesn’t appear dangerous, but Misaki holds her purse tight against her chest, prepared to reach into it for the pepper spray she carries. This is not the happy expectation she’d had when finally entering her new home.

The young man couldn’t be much younger than her, messy blonde hair falling into his eyes, needing a haircut, stubble peppering his cheeks, clothes hanging off of his body. His eyes were a tired shade of almond brown, slouched at the kitchen table like the world weighed down on his shoulders. After taking a closer look, Misaki became more curious than afraid.

“How did you get in?”

“You can cut the scared act,” a smile, wry and brittle, teases,” I didn’t come here to hurt anyone. I was sleeping on the bench by the streetlamp for two weeks when I realized no one was coming home. There’s a way to wedge your garage door open and, well, door connected wasn’t locked. Been squatting since then, the place is pretty nice. I promise I didn’t steal or break anything.”

Taking a chance, Misaki steps closer and when he doesn’t move, she finds the courage to keep moving until she is seated across him at the table. All the while, he watched her with a lazy gaze, assessing each other and what to do next. “You look comfortable.”

She doesn’t mean for it to sound like an accusation, but he is invading her space and he isn’t exactly a welcome visitor. His shrug is carefree,” Had time to get comfortable. But I guess that’s gonna change, huh?”

Misaki’s heart tears at the sadness and defeat in his eyes. “You’re homeless.”

“Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner!” A false cheer carries in the other’s voice,” Your prize, ma’am?”

“... stay here.”

“... what?”

“I said,” reiterated more clearly,” stay here.”

“And why would you say that to me?”

“Because you’re living here too it seems, I have a spare bedroom and I’m not heartless. We’ll have to figure some things out since you clearly don’t have a job.”

“I’m Terushima. I can do chores,” he suggests with a lighter smile, the beginning of a blooming, wide grin. “I do know how to cook with ingredients and clean.”

Misaki presses her lips together tight, trying not to be charmed. “That’s a start. I’m Misaki.”


	3. Ukai/Takeda

03\. you’re drunk in the department store I manage and you keep yelling at other customers so please come into my office while I call the cops  
Pairing : Ukai/Takeda

“Takeda! Takeda!”

Straightening up from stocking the shelf he’d been working on, the store manager looks up at the panicked face of a fellow coworker. Immediately nervous, he smiles in what he hopes is a soothing expression. “What’s going on?”

“There’s this guy - he’s drunk, wandering the store and trying to pick a fight with customers! He’s shouting at everyone in the electronics department!”

That gets him moving, rushing passed his coworker and darting between aisles to reach the other side of the store faster. He’s afraid of violence breaking out, of people getting hurt and lawsuits slapping him hard in the aftermath. The minute he can hear the yelling, dread fills his stomach, distracting him enough to trip over air. Quickly getting back up and entering the electronics department, he notices two things : one, there is a small crowd around one man and two, said man is red in the face from having a screaming match with one of the employees.

Akiteru is the first to notice him, rushing from the small circle to speak to him. “Thank god you’re here! This guy hasn’t stopped arguing with Naoi for twenty minutes, no one can get him to leave and -”

“Has anyone called the cops?” Takeda is proud of the level-headed thinking despite the situation.

“Not yet, I don’t think.”

Takeda sighs, then steels himself. “I’m going to take him to my office to calm him down and call the cops.”

“I’ll come with-”

“No, I’ve got this. I want you to help the customers and fix everything up that’s been knocked off the shelves.”

“Will you be okay?”

Akiteru is a good guy and he doesn’t want to stress him out anymore with this. “I promise everything will be okay. Trust me?”

After a responding nod, Takeda approaches the buzzing circle, squeezing between two people to get to his target. “Excuse me, sir? Sir?”

The blonde-dyed back of the head becomes a face staring him down. The anger changes to something else and Takeda has his full attention. “You’re small.”

“Ah, thank you, sir? I would like you to accompany me to my office so we can talk. I understand you seem upset and would like to help you.”

“I’ll follow you anywhere.”

A little surprised by the easy compliance, Takeda smiles. “If you’ll follow me,” he begins, waving a hand at his concerned coworkers and one red-faced Naoi,” we’ll help you out.”

The guy grabs his hand, holding on and like guiding a child home, Takeda takes him to his back office, gesturing to his chair. When the guy is seated, no longer swaying back and forth on his feet, he can breathe a sigh of relief. First step complete, second step in progress.

Before he can make it two steps towards the phone, arms are around his waist, rooting him to the spot and a forehead is pressed into his back. “Don’t go,” is groaned.

“Sir, you are drunk-”

“M’lonely.”

And curse him and his kindness, but Takeda manages to switch around in the arms so he can look down at the head resting against him. Hesitantly, he pats the hunched back in what he hopes is comforting. “Okay, okay. Tell me what’s going on. Why are you lonely?”

“Naoi didn’t come to see me.”

That’s an interesting statement. “You know each other?”

“Highschool,” mumbled into his shirt. “You’re nicer.”

Takeda is a tiny bit flattered and exasperated. “So you came here drunk to harass your friend? In the middle of busy working hours?”

“Mhm,” is a miserable admission. Takeda has to hold back a laugh, empathetic to a man he should be calling the cops on.

“How about you sleep this off in my office, be a good boy and I won’t call the cops.”

“... stay with me?”

He has to think about it since, you know, he has work to do, on the clock and all. And maybe he’ll get in trouble for this later, but Takeda feels the odds are in his favor after deescalating what could’ve been a full on brawl. He does have paperwork and emails to attend to anyway… “Sure. Um, what’s your name?”

“Ukai. Your nametag said Takeda. It’s a cute name.”

Really, he should be mortified, but all he can feel is fondness. Who knows what’ll happen after this guy, Ukai, sobers up, but maybe they can be friends and maybe Naoi and he can make up from this encounter.


	4. Oikawa/Iwaizumi

04\. I organize a petition to get you, the ceo, to live off of my wage for three months and since it’s getting media attention, your PR manager suggests you accept the challenge and you keep coming into my department to ask me how to do things  
Pairing : Oikawa/Iwaizumi

“Help me.”

Iwaizumi can feel his eyebrow twitch, irritation coloring his cheeks an angry red. When he had appealed for the CEO of Seijoh Industries to live a day in his shoes, he expected the snot-nosed brat Oikawa to learn a lesson in being more humble, not annoying him every twenty seconds. It appears being raised by nannies and having several servants at his disposal throughout his life has done Oikawa Tooru no favors in regular life.

“Go ask someone else,” he hisses, eyes for his report rather than the pouting face at the door of his cubicle.

“I don’t wanna,” whining voice loud enough to be heard by everyone around them,” and you got into this mess. Teach me how to cook, at least.”

“Just make toast or boil an egg.”

“I burnt the toast and the egg exploded when I tried.”

That makes the tapping on the keyboard stop, a slow head turn to reveal an incredulous expression. Oikawa actually looks sheepish for once. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“I’m clueless!”

“Watch youtube tutorials. Ask Yahaba or Kunimi or literally anyone else.”

“I already tried asking Hanamaki,” the pout returns to inform him,” and he laughed in my face. I can’t ask anyone else, what will happen to my reputation?”

“What reputation?” Deadpan expression shows Iwaizumi is not joking.

“Hey!”

Iwaizumi scrubs a hand down his face, sighing. If he leaves Oikawa to his own devices, he’s afraid the guy will burn his whole apartment complex to the ground. Because it is, in a way, his doing, Iwaizumi feels responsible to see that the next three months of this does not land Oikawa in a hospital.

“Write down your address and I’ll come over for a quick lesson tomorrow. For today just, uh, buy something.”

“I need you to help me with other things too.”

A groan,” What the hell else?”

“Uh, everything?”

“What the hell is ‘everything’?”

“I can’t do my own laundry, I need to know what to use to unclog the bathroom sink, I have no idea what dishwasher soap to use. Oh! And I tried fixing my refrigerator, but it keeps spitting out ice cubes when I try to get water at night-”

“Stop,” a hand raises to halt the onslaught of information hurled at him. “I want you to write a list, okay? And I’ll try to teach you whatever I can. By the end of the week I do not want to hear a peep out of you unless work related. This is only because I know you’re too stupid to figure this out on your own and I can’t have you die on me or I’ll get fired.”

Oikawa’s face beams in a relieved smile. “You’re my knight in shining armor, Iwa-chan!”

As the other walks away, Iwaizumi leans out of his cubicle, face red and angry, already regretting his decision. “And stop calling me that!”


	5. Semi/Shirabu

05\. I’m a pro-athlete at a press conference and I make a comment to my buddy about you because I forgot my mic was on  
Pairing : Semi/Shirabu

The conference was well underway and Semi, bored as high hell, scanned the crowd of reporters with disinterest. As an athlete, he was used to hours of ridiculous questions, used to the awed gawking at his team. The fun of it had long drained from his former starry-eyed gaze at being renowned and fawned over.

“Psst,” whispers Tendou in his ear,” cutie speaking right now.”

Semi tunes in because at least Tendou knows the meaning of the word ‘entertainment’. And he finds that, yes, the young reporter is respectfully asking Ushijima a handful of questions pertaining to the dynamic changes this season, the major play last game and blah, blah, blah. What interests Semi is the pretty face doing all the asking, the fine pressed suit (who wears a suit to a conference like this, how serious) hugging just this side of right and he has a deep fascination with those hips and legs.

“Looks like intern bait, but he isn’t hard on the eyes.”

The horror washes over him when all eyes turn to him, Ushijima two seats over on his left staring a burning hole into the side of his head. Tendou, unconcerned about appearances, is cackling next to him, wheezing from unrestrained laughter.

His damn microphone was still on, announcing his thoughts to the room.

The reporter is also staring, livid eyes tearing through him, maintaining a professionally unamused expression as he addresses Semi. “Excuse me, but I was addressing Ushijima-san, not a second rate team member.”

Anger quickly replaces the horror. “Who the fuck.”

“My name is Shirabu, reporter for Shiratorizawa newspaper. If you could please abstain from speaking out of turn, I would like to finish my interviewing Ushijima-san.”

He has a half-baked retort ready to roll off the tongue when Reon reaches over and grips his shoulder in a reproaching manner, reminding him to keep his cool. He bites his cheek and slumps in his chair, crossing his arms without another word, leaving it at a glare.

_You may have won this time, cute reporter. Next time, watch out._


	6. Tendou/Semi

06\. in a moment of stupidity, I keyed what I thought was my ex’s car only to be surprised when you come screaming towards me  
Pairing : Tendou/Semi

Tendou isn’t bitter. He’s sad and lonely and a little bit angry, but he’s not bitter.

Petty, however, he can be, as evident with what he’s doing. It’s not his first time keying a person’s car, the thrill of the crime lighting up his veins in an adrenaline rush. So revenge can be sweet, who knew?

“Hey asshole!” A scream comes from behind Tendou, startling him from finishing the word ‘cheater’. Uh oh, he’s been caught! “That’s my car, you piece of shit!”

His face blanches, watching as this stranger stomps towards him, clearly not his ex. Infact, he’s pretty hot with salt and pepper hair, the leather jacket he’s wearing doing things to Tendou in a very arousing way. And, oh, he’s in deep shit, ain’t he?

“Woah, uh, sorry man, I didn’t realize it was your car…”

“Who the fuck did you think it belonged to?”

“My ex,” he squeaks as a hand fists into his shirt, pulling him nose to nose with the aggravated man.

Eyes blink back at Tendou, accessing and angry. “Do I know you?”

“No,” licking lips to stall the dumbass words about to be said,” but I’d like to.”

The stranger snorts and pushes him up against the vandalized car and, mhm, Tendou is definitely attracted to this, even if it means he’s about to get the shit beat out of him. A finger points to the ‘A’ scratched on the passenger door,” You gonna pay for that, asshole?”

“Sure! With dinner, if you’d like.”

“Are you really hitting on me now? After fucking up my car?”

“I said I was sorry,” Tendou mumbles, honestly feeling bad now. “I just got cheated on and I’m going through a mental crisis. I’ll pay for the damages, I promise.”

“... fine,” is said. Tendou is set free, the hand moving to curl fingers into wild red hair, a harsh laugh at the wide, surprised look from the action. “Here’s the deal. You’re gonna buy me a burger and we’ll talk about your shitty ex. You’re gonna pay for half the damages, but before that… we’re gonna find that fucker’s car and give it a real makeover.”

Tendou feels dizzy, sucking in a breath laced with the smell of leather and cologne. “Does that make this a date?”

“Yeah,” breathed right against his lips,” and this is the foreplay.”

The kiss is harsh, biting at his lips, wet and good. Tendou almost feels like thanking his ex for setting off the chain of events that led to this interaction. His lips will be bruised after this, his wallet lighter, but he’s going to count himself fortunate he got a hot date out of this.


	7. Oikawa/Sugawara

07\. I’m assigned to write a piece rounding up all the bad press that you, a famous celebrity, have been getting and you show up in my office and demand me to write a retraction and get the ‘real’ story  
Pairing : Oikawa/Suga

Suga became a journalist for the discovery, for the thrill of chasing down the story. He didn’t expect being slapped with celebrity gossip and making up rumors on the tiniest speculation. It was boring work, creative in its own right, but he wasn’t fond of judging someone on the basis of the clothes they wore or if a couple were heading towards a divorce.

Finishing a new assignment from his boss, Daichi, left a bitter taste in his mouth. He’d stayed up all night rifling through all the bad press one Oikawa Tooru had been gaining as of late. The actor appeared to be involved in a scandal, accusations surfacing from multiple sources, each with scathing remarks for the infamous playboy star. Suga wasn’t particularly interested passed the surface issues, half-disbelieving and pondering of the truth behind it. But he wasn’t being paid for his personal opinion on the matter.

He’d submitted his piece punctually and that was the end of that… or so he thought.

“This,” a dark voice hisses, a fresh-printed paper smacking down on the wood surface of a desk,” is slander. This isn’t even a good picture of me!”

A raised brow, Suga pursing his lips as he glances from the front publication to the ire of Oikawa. He’d been ambushed at his desk, the actor marching straight toward him with a cold, sharp gaze threatening to cut him down at the knees. Asahi scampered off after spotting the visitor, cowering by the coffee machine. He was alone, not expecting any savior.

“I don’t make the rules on what stories get told. I combed through the plethora of information out there and made an effort to form a structured coverage of what is happening. If you have an issue, I can call my boss and-”

“I’m talking to you, pretty boy.”

“Excuse me?” Suga almost laughs, in no way flattered but incredulous. “Who made his career off batting his eyelashes at the camera again?”

The anger morphs into something more calculating, more menacing. The smile Oikawa gives him sends shivers down his spine and not the good kind. “I’m talking to _you_. You’re going to retract everything you said and you’re going to help me get out the real story.”

“And why would I be inclined to help you?”

Oikawa slams a hand on the desk, pinning Suga between it and the wall, leaning forward to be inches apart from his face. “Because what I have is much juicier than the spit you threw up on that paper this morning.”

As insulted as he feels, Suga is brimming with curiosity. He always said he wanted to chase a story… and an opportunity is, well, an opportunity. “When do we start?”

“Right now. But not in this ugly building. I can’t believe you can work in this dull place.”

Suga rolls his eyes, standing and gathering his things when Oikawa gives him space again, typing out a quick text to Daichi to let him know he’s taking an early lunch to follow a new lead. Oikawa offers his arm, but Suga sends him a look and follows him to the elevator.

“This better be good,” he warns.

“I’m about to give you a boost in your career, buddy. Once I’m done with you,” he steps closer once they reach Oikawa’s car, lips close to Suga’s ear,” you’ll love me.”


	8. Kageyama/Kenma

08\. I wrote my crush a note except I started it with ‘dear you’ and my friend stuck it into the wrong locker and now you think I have a crush on you  
Pairing : Kageyama/Kenma, one-sided Hinata/Kenma

“This is a bad idea,” Kenma tries to dissuade.

“It’ll work! Easy-peasy, I just slip it into his locker and no one will suspect a thing. Really, you could do this yourself if you wanted to.”

“I don’t want to,” mumbled.

“That’s why I,” Kuroo swipes the letter from Kenma’s grasp, holding it up to his nose,” am going to do it for you.”

Kenma went through the whole day jittery and full of nerves. He was half-convinced this would end horribly, but Kuroo was his bestfriend and he trusted him, right?

While walking towards his locker after last period, he heard conversation, immediately drawn to Hinata, his crush, speaking down the hall only a few feet away. Did he see the note already? Kenma’s heart beating wildly in his chest, legs shaky as he looked up to see Hinata and one of his friends…

But why did the friend have his note?

Dread fills every inch of his body, fingers fumbling for his phone, ready to panic text Kuroo. When he happens to glance up again, he is being stared at by Kageyama Tobio, Hinata’s friend.

This did not go to plan.


	9. Matsukawa/Hanamaki

13\. we make contact before trying to steal the last seat on the subway/bus/train and I end up in your lap and fuck you, I’m going to stay here because I’ve had a really long day and this seat was mine  
Pairing : Matsukawa/Hanamaki

Hanamaki was exhausted and in no way unafraid to sit his ass down on the damn floor of the bus if he had to. When he spotted the last open seat, he was grateful to whatever deity being merciful to his poor soul today. That was until he bumped shoulders with a stranger who proceeded to steal his only salvation.

The bump ends up being harder than Hanamaki can withstand, tumbling down on the lap of the seat thief. He tries to brace his knees to stand, but the energy has left him and he’s in a real ‘fuck it’ mood. So he wiggles his butt to get comfortable and sags a little, bag in his hands.

“Is this my fate now?” The voice of his new seating arrangement appears amused. “At least your ass is plush like a cushion.”

“Shut up, glorified seat warmer.”

A laugh. “If this is the treatment I get, guess I should start following you around and steal your seats all the time.”

“You’re going to become my stalker?” Hanamaki has to laugh too. He feels delirious with exhaustion, giddy in a way he probably shouldn’t while in the lap of a stranger.

There’s a shift of movement, jostling him for a moment. “I’m going to be your number one fan! Matsukawa, president of the cute butt fanclub.”

“Weirdo.”

“You sat your butt on me, remember?”

Hanamaki turns his head just enough to see over his shoulder, at this Matsukawa. There is a grin being sent his way, bushy brows arched in a ‘_whatcha gonna do about it_’. So maybe he’s starting to like this cheeky bastard. “Welcome to the Hanamaki fanclub.”


	10. Yamamoto/Kenma

14\. you caught me doing something a few weeks ago but didn’t report me and now you’re trying to blackmail me into secretly tutoring you even though you and your friends have always been assholes, no I don’t ‘owe’ you  
Pairing : Yamamoto/Kenma

“No.”

Kenma continued to stare down at his textbook, refusing eye contact and furthering this conversation. He wants it dead before it’s begun, shatter any illusion of help he may be inclined to offer.

“You owe me,” taunts Yamamoto.

And very unlike himself, Kenma sees a flash of red, glares up at the intruder in his space with disgust. He is tempted to vault over the table and pull that bad hair-dyed mohawk right out of the offender’s scalp.

“I don’t owe you anything.”

“I saw you after hours, sneaking about. I didn’t report you, so now you owe me. Tutor me and my buddies and we’ll call it even, yeah?”

Kenma is about to refuse again, but the threat does mean something to him keeping his head low and graduating a year early. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth as he says,” If you make me regret this-”

“Threatening me? Cute,” Yamamoto grins and salutes as he turns on his heels. “See you Thursday!”

Working his jaw, Kenma bites back shouting after him. He’ll do this for his own sake, if only for however long he needs before he’s on his way out and he’ll never have to see Yamamoto’s stupid face or his friends every again.


	11. Kuroo/Bokuto

18\. we were just introduced at a party by our mutual friend and when my partner comes to join us, you freak out because you were just outside making out with them and you pull me aside to tell me  
Pairing : Kuroo/Bokuto

“Bo! Bo, I want you to meet my friend Kuroo,” a mutual friend gets his attention, wide golden eyes taking in two figures standing to his right.

His first impression of Kuroo is a good one : tall, good-looking, hair just as wacky as his own, cheshire grin full of mirth and fun things to come. Bokuto can tell they’ll become very good friends in the next hour or two judging by the lazy once-over Kuroo is giving him, equal parts intrigued, amused and possibly aroused. He laughs, trades some bad jokes and their mutual friend ventures off, leaving the two to pal around while sipping on beers.

It’s all making faces and telling ridiculous stories (‘_I swear! I caught bigfoot on tape! I’ll show you sometime_’) until Bokuto catches Kuroo’s eyes, something shining in them as he leans closer, smirk present, gaze lingering around his mouth. That’s when he has to put up a hand, laughing as he shakes his head. He hasn’t come here alone and Bokuto isn’t the type to cheat, isn’t the kind of guy that does causal relationships. Kuroo, to his credit, takes this in stride, shrugging.

“Sorry man, flattered, but my girl is over there. I don’t think she shares.”

He does see her through the crowd, weaving between partygoers, a social butterfly just like him. He’s grinning because, well, that’s his girl and when he turns his head back to talk to Kuroo, he finds the other looks shocked, uneasy and a tad bit guilty.

A nervous lick of lips, followed by,” That’s your girlfriend?”

“Yeah!”

“Uh, buddy. Geez, how do I say this.” Kuroo grabs his arm gently, pulling him further into a corner, out of sight of roaming girlfriends. “I kinda made out with her a while ago… at this party. I didn’t realize she had a boyfriend and she initiated so… yeah.”

That honestly crushes him. He can feel himself deflate like a popped party balloon, smile gone, all the joy leaving him in the next moment. “Oh.”

Kuroo blows air through his nose, looking angry now, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, that’s really scummy. I swear I didn’t know.”

“No worries, dude.” His voice sounds hollow, but he really doesn’t blame Kuroo since it’s clear he didn’t know. Right now he’s at a dilemma of what to do. He’s not good with this kind of confrontation, however, he can’t pretend it didn’t happen and he is not going to stick to the side of a cheater throughout this party after knowing. He’s a little afraid of trying to break up in a public setting, crossed with betrayal and sadness.

It must be clear on his face, the indecision, because a hand, large and warm, cups his chin and raises his head. Kuroo is looking at him, something intense and serious as he’s leaning closer again, trying to be heard above the crowd of yelling, drunk college students as he says lowly,” Wanna leave with me? I’ve got your back. I can help you, you know.”

Bokuto’s eyes blow wide, honestly touched, still partly dazed from the sudden vertigo of ‘_she doesn’t really love you anymore_’ and ‘_he’s still interested even if I look like a total loser right now_’. He licks his lips, doesn’t fail to notice Kuroo’s eyes are immediately drawn to the action. Nerves bubble up his spine, realizing he’s between an inviting body full of lean, hard muscle and a cold plaster wall behind him.

Kuroo takes pity on him again as he speaks,” No pressure or anything. You can break up then come hang out with me at my dorm. I don’t live far from here… and I’m not gonna be mean to the guy I just played homewrecker to by accident.”

A strangled laugh leaves Bokuto’s throat at that, can’t help feeling a little better at Kuroo’s returning smile, something gentler this time. “What if I wanted more,” blurted out because there’s no filter on a sober day and a few beers only adds to the loosening of lips.

The change in his new friend’s demeanor is immediate, a heat behind dilated eyes, sweeping a phantom touch along his skin, leaving Bokuto shivering under the attention. The hand on his chin slips lower to cup the back of his neck, another hand coming to rest beside his head for support as Kuroo is leaning ever closer, his height and presence surrounding him.

“I’d say,” teasing tone before the flashing of a tongue and, ‘_oh god he has a tongue piercing_’,” you’re in for a long night.”


	12. Futakuchi/Mai

20\. you’re the town’s super villain and you take me hostage because you saw the super hero talking to me but I’m new in town and was asking them for directions  
Pairing : Futakuchi/Mai

“You are,” Mai seethes,” an idiot.”

When coming to Dateko town, she had felt it was a new beginning for her. Landing a dream job at the local news station could spell nothing, but great fortune in her future, right?

Wrong. Apparently so, so wrong.

Mai was aware of the complicated situation Dateko town was under, villains and heroes and daily plots being carried out meant there was a lot of news to cover; it also meant dangerous housing when the latest villain decided to level a building for fun. All of that paled when she realized she would be able to do live reporting out on the field where her family could watch on TV (‘_hi mom!_’).

She hadn’t expected to meet the town’s stationed hero, a tall man who called himself The Wall, stone-faced yet polite when she needed help finding directions to her apartment complex. She’d gotten settled in, walked down the street to the quiet pretzel place she saw when driving by for a bite then went home to read and go to bed early to start her first day on the job tomorrow.

She hadn’t expected to be kidnapped by the town’s main villain that night either.

“You were with him! Are you lying? Tell me the truth and maybe I won’t hurt you too much.”

Futakuchi was well-known as he owned a number of businesses in town and harbored a hatred toward the much loved hero. Their one-sided rivalry for attention was a weekly occurrence that haunted the residents. Mai, however, had just moved in and had no idea such an arrogant, vain, troublemaking nuisance existed.

Apparently he saw her asking The Wall for directions and thought they were close. Mai thought he was a purely annoying idiot. “I just moved here. How would I know him?”

A pout as Futakuchi pulls up a chair across the one she is tied to, sitting down and crossing his legs as if he could be imposing and scary. She was tempted to laugh in his face, but all she wanted was freedom and a good night’s rest.

“So you aren’t friends? Maybe… lovers?” Her glare is answer enough and he throws up his hands, exasperated (really, how does he think she feels?) at the whole situation. “Well, you just wasted my night-time plans! How am I supposed to be a dastardly villain if I don’t have the right kind of hostage?”

“I don’t really care,” deadpanned.

“You should,” he sneers,” because I’m not letting you out of my sight until that big, broad oaf comes crashing into my trap. Even if you don’t know each other… you’re still innocent. He’ll go for that. A pretty face, all alone in town, boo-hoo.”

Furious enough to nearly spit in his face,” My first day at work is tomorrow! You can’t!”

Futakuchi’s face splits into a devious smile, a sinister aura making Mai second-guess her earlier assessment. Maybe he was more dangerous than she thought.

“Oh, but I can. And I shall, pretty thing.”


	13. Iwaizumi/Kyoutani (ENDGAME MULTI)

22\. you’re on a date with this awful, awful person who keeps getting under my skin because my friend and I have been eavesdropping all night and your date says something that makes me snap … I thought it was a first date, not a three year relationship  
Pairing : Iwaizumi/Kyoutani (+Oikawa/Iwaizumi & implied Oikawa/Kyoutani/Iwaizumi endgame)

Kyoutani is having a bad day. Why is more to do with what was happening to someone else rather than to himself. He’d been tasked to serve the right corner booth, at first having only one occupant. The man must’ve been around his age, undeniably attractive with biceps that made his hands itch to touch copper skin, eyes a dark green that made him hot under that gaze and greeted him with a toothy smile when he’d come over.

All in all, he was one of the most polite customers Kyoutani had ever been graced. And that’s why he’d been both disappointed and offended on the guy’s behalf when a primly dressed man with fluffy hair joined the booth. Kyoutani shouldn’t have been too surprised and strived not to scowl too much, but the more the date continued, the angrier Kyoutani became.

“He keeps calling him ‘Iwa-chan’ instead of his name. And he had the audacity to say he looks shitty in that T-shirt!”

Yahaba watches him complain, amusement swimming in his eyes as he watches the mad tirade. “You fell head over heels in two seconds. Guy must be dreamy.”

“Shut up,” hissed, but the reddening ears gives him away.

“Guess he needs a knight in shining armor.”

“I’m not ruining his date.”

“From what you said, it’s already ruined. I’m surprised he hasn’t foot the bill and ran out of here. Well, I did see his date and he is hot too.”

Kyoutani knows, is mad someone so vain and ridiculous could look so good and snatch the attention of someone equally beautiful. It makes him grind his teeth, slamming the menus in his hand down with a little too much force. He shouldn’t care, it doesn’t have anything to do with him.

A hand rubbing at his cheek doesn’t help much. “I hate this.”

“Do you need someone to fill in for the table? Watari’s side is slow tonight.”

“No,” he says too quickly, is half-tempted to punch the smirk off his friend’s face. “I’m not a coward. I just feel bad for him.”

“Well, feel less bad and bring them their refills.”

Kyoutani grumbles, but does what he’s told. He’s slower to getting to the table, trying to give himself an extra moment to steel himself for the shitshow he’s walking into. To his horror, he arrives in the middle of a conversation.

“Get your ape hands off my fries!” The whiny voice whittles bare the patience Kyoutani has desperately been grasping onto for the sake of keeping this job.

“Quit patronizing him with your nasally, shitty tone!”

The shocked gazes settle on him, before the two glance at each other then stare back again. “Excuse you,” haughtily stated,” but this is my _boyfriend_ of **three years**.”

Something heavy drops into the pit of his stomach. He thought it was a first date, not a multi-year long established relationship. They probably share an apartment together, picked out the color of their window curtains together, maybe they even had a dog they jokingly called their kid in a loving manner. Kyoutani hates how sour it makes him feel imagining it.

“I didn’t know that,” he mumbled as he quickly gives them their refills and scurries off with his tail between his legs.

Yahaba doesn’t even suppress his laughter as he comes back, red-faced and completely mortified. They must think he’s a damn weirdo. Watari comes by this time, lured in by the high-pitched laughter, gets a second-hand account by a wheezing Yahaba while Kyoutani mopes.

“I can take the table, if you want. I’m sure they’re almost done anyway. You can have the tip.”

It’s a sweet offer considering the horrid experience. This time he says yes, unable to show his face around them again. He can only imagine the snickering from pretty boy and the awkward politeness of fitness buff. Why was his life like this?

Not even five minutes pass when Watari nervously approaches him again. “They asked that you come back and finish with their bill.”

“What? Fuck no.” Kyoutani expects to be humiliated and even if he looks tough on the outside, his feelings do exist. He’d be walking into a straight trap if he went back now.

“Chicken,” Yahaba mutters, then yelps as his ankle is kicked harshly.

Watari gives him a helpless look, a silent urge to get back in the ring. Swallowing the pride lumped in his throat, Kyoutani walks back over with clenched fists.

“Lovely of you to join us,” purrs Mr. Eyelashes, looking entirely too pleased with himself. Kyoutani’s jaw ticks in irritation, but seeing Mr. Muscles watching him with amusement has him trying to stay level-headed. “My partner and I think you’re really cute, don’t we, Iwa-chan?”

“Mm, very cute. Oikawa thinks you’re a spitfire, he's into that.”

“Oh hush, as if you aren’t attracted to a challenge.”

His eyes darted between them, confused and a little flustered. “Um, you guys want your check?”

“Not going to ask if we want dessert first?” A batting of eyelashes has him rolling his eyes, but then that gaze sharpens on him, sending shivers down his spine, from excitement or fear he isn’t sure. “Because we’d love to take you home.”

“Oikawa,” laughs his boyfriend, grin lop-sided as he holds his hand out to take the check from Kyoutani’s dazed grip.

“What? Don’t act like you weren’t just talking about it with me.”

“You need to learn the art of subtlety.”

“Is that why we pined all throughout highschool before getting it together enough to date before graduation?”

Great, they’re highschool sweethearts too, making fun of his infatuation. Kill him now.

“Here’s the check, paid in cash.” It is handed over, but before he can pull his hand away, a raised brow halts him. “The napkin folded inside has your fifty dollar tip and my phone number. If you’re interested.”

Then the guy fucking winks at him and he swears he’s about to die.

“I think you broke him, Iwa-chan!”

“Think, uh, thank you,” stammered as he ducks his head, face so warm he could be on fire right now. He walks away clutching the check booklet tightly in his hands, collapsing in the back area where the waiters stand to take the table orders from the kitchen.

Yahaba, thankfully, is gone. That leaves Watari to crouch down beside him, checking on him to make sure he hasn’t murdered somebody and isn’t having a mental breakdown. “You okay?”

Carefully he shifts, unmasking the napkin hidden within the booklet, opening it up to find his tip and the messy scrawl of a number under the name _Iwaizumi_. He swallows thickly, mouth suddenly dry. He croaks,” I think a miracle just happened.”


	14. Kageyama/Hinata

23\. our mutual friend has been talking us up to the other and when we finally meet, we have to tell them that we’ve been in a feud for the last six years (and I can’t stop thinking of all the nice things our friend has said about you)  
Pairing : Kageyama/Hinata

“You’ll love him!”

Hinata has known Yamaguchi since highschool, sweet and kind, honest enough to never tell a lie (at least he knows when he is lying because Yamaguchi always scratches the bridge of his nose in a fit of nerves when he does). He’s been talking up a friend he met at volleyball camp in middle school that he kept in touch with, spinning tales of boyhood wonder as Hinata listened. Apparently the old camp mate was coming to town to visit family and Yamaguchi was fixed on the idea of the two meeting.

“You sure? I don’t want to take time away from you both!”

To be honest himself, Hinata was ecstatic at the idea. This person was supposedly a pro at volleyball, an incredible setter in his youth that followed into college. Hinata, a volleyball fan and having fought tooth and nail to be able to play on any team, felt like this might be fate.

“He’s awkward because he’s shy,” Yamaguchi explains. “But you know how to bulldoze right through that with your sunshine personality. I’m sure it’ll be fine!”

Hinata had been so excited… until he saw it was Kageyama.

Now it was beyond awkward silence between the three. Hinata knew Kageyama, but not from any pleasant experience. Their teams had faced each other in middle school and Kageyama hadn’t been kind in his judgement of Hinata’s abilities at the time. It drove him to take volleyball more seriously, to harness the one thing he could do better : jump, run from one side of the court to the other and jump as high as he could before spiking the ball.

The silent feud hadn’t gone away after primary school and that wasn’t something Hinata was willing to admit, especially to innocent-faced Yamaguchi. The deflated look he’d gotten when speaking the truth wasn’t something that made him feel good or just in his grudge.

“Oh,” was all he said, because what else was there to say?

Instead of not being a dummy and leaving them to it, Hinata stuck around, traversing the mall they’d ventured into, window shopping and talking (mostly just Yamaguchi and Hinata as Kageyama was mostly a quiet spectator unless it was volleyball related). It was only when Yamaguchi skipped off to the bathroom while his friends ate pretzels, that Kageyama even really looked at Hinata.

“You’re still really short.”

“I’m growing still!” Squawked and indignant to the statement. “You’re as rude as ever.”

“I just asked a question,” said as if honestly confused.

Hinata pouts, biting into his pretzel a little aggressively. How could Yamaguchi stand this guy? He was obnoxiously blunt, pushy about certain things and said things that borderlined cruel. Hinata couldn’t get over all the nice things he’d been told of this person, glancing at the sweep of dark hair, lingering on the curve of his jaw, drawn down to long fingered hands.

What the hell was Yamaguchi even talking about?


	15. Kuroo/Yaku

24\. you looked uncomfortable with that person all over you so I went to pretend to be your partner so they’d leave, except they were actually your significant other, and they dump you on the spot  
Pairing : Kuroo/Yaku

Kuroo likes parties. What he likes to do is grab a drink (who can say no to free beer?), pick a corner and people watch. If he sees a familiar face, he’ll chat them up, have a nice night before going home in the early morning hours to sleep it off.

Right now he’s doing just that, scanning the crowd for anything interesting. He spots something, but it’s more alarming than interesting, if a tad bit amusing from an outside perspective. He sees a tall girl hanging all over a shorter guy, pressing her chest into his side, arms placing a death grip around him in an oppressive hug. Kuroo cringes inwardly, feeling the wave of uncomfortableness from where he’s standing.

It’s none of his business, really. The guy should just shake the girl off.

Feet take him closer, parting the crowd with his height advantage, grinning at anyone sending him a look. When he’s finally next to his target, the slick charm gets turned up a notch. He raises a brow in a ‘_what’s going on here_’ gesture.

“Hey babe, I’ve been looking for you. Who is this?”

The girl frowns, confusion twisting her expression, standing straighter as she gives Kuroo a threatening stare. “Yaku? What’s he on about? You don’t know him!”

He isn’t intimidated and the short guy isn’t stopping him, simply watching this play out with a neutral expression. He continues,” He’s been in my bed for the last four months, of course he knows me.”

The face of anger spells for a disastrous tantrum in the making. “Excuse me? We’ve been dating for a year! Is this true, Yaku?”

This guy, Yaku, doesn’t say anything. He looks contemplative, eyeing Kuroo not as a savior, but more as a devil in disguise. He settles for a shrug and,” It’s whatever.”

Kuroo is swallowing his surprise, not tearing his gaze from Yaku, intrigued by the events that have befallen. The girl finally let’s go, screams some profanities and things like ‘_cheater!_’ then pointing an accusing finger at Kuroo’s unperturbed smirk ‘_hoe!_’ before storming off.

He drops the act now, sheepishly stepping closer to the brown eyes that are burning into his soul. “Sorry about that. You looked uncomfortable - I thought she was harassing you. My bad.”

“Nah,” is a sigh of relief. “I’ve been meaning to break it off for the last month. It’s been going downhill for awhile now. You just made it easier… although, I wanted to do it nicer.”

“Well, unfortunately not all break ups are clean. Can I get you a drink, Yakkun?”

“What did you call me?” The despondent expression morphs into mild offense and Kuroo finds he likes the look of it, intends to make it appear plenty of times tonight. He also wonders what other faces he can pull out.

“You heard me.” The grin is back, full of genuine charm.

“You’re a menace, aren’t you?” And Yaku’s eyes took on a gleam, something like challenge reflected behind them.

“Why don’t you follow me and find out.”


	16. Lev/Yaku

25\. a friend set us up on a blind date but you never showed so when we meet at our friend’s party, I refuse to talk to you  
Pairing : Lev/Yaku

“Kai, I don’t know about this.”

“Come on, you need to relax a little. All our friends will be there, some new faces and we get free food. You used to love doing things like this.”

His roommate and highschool friend was right, of course. Level-headed, perceptive Kai knew all the right things to say to persuade him. However, the real hang up was one person was going to be there and Yaku wasn’t fond of the idea of having to deal with that.

Awhile back, a mutual friend had set him on a blind date with someone who was ‘_really cool!_’ and ‘_should be your type I promise, I’ve known him for a long time_’. Said person did not show up to that blind date and Yaku was offended and pissed off about it ever since. He’d waited at the cafe for over an hour, hoping it was because of the rain, that buses were running late, anything that wasn't the awful thought in his head of ‘_he found out who you are and doesn’t want to bother with you_’.

He felt like he was going to regret this. If anything all he had to do was ignore the guy and enjoy the little BBQ party and all would be fine, right?

Yaku was betrayed ten minutes in, Kai having disappeared while Kuroo came over with a new face, smile mischievous as he introduced them. “Remember the guy I told you about? This is Lev!”

Lev, as it turned out, was exactly his type. Half-russian blood giving him light-colored hair, green cat’s eyes observing him with interest, a tall behemoth that made Yaku feel like a tiny ant. Yaku feels his attraction blossom then die in his chest when he remembers his reason for resentment.

He spares Lev a nod, refusing to speak. All he has to do is entertain Kuroo for another minute until he grows bored then slip away to find whatever hidey-hole Kenma has managed to score and hope his friend will let him seek shelter with him.

“Wow, Kuroo! You were right, Yaku-san is really cute!”

A flush runs down his face and neck, glare for Kuroo despite not being the speaker ; his snicker and smirk is damning enough to warrant it anyway.

“Oh, and he’s so small. I bet I could carry you easy in my arms, like a kitten!”

Yaku sputters then, vow of silence breaking as incredulous indignation takes over. “Don’t make fun of me!”

A tilt of the head, those eyes again stripping him down, glittering with a cat that caught the canary satisfaction. “I’m not. I just really want to pick you up and take you home with me.”

Widening eyes, blinking rapidly as Yaku processes the words and bubbling arousal at the declaration. He’s caught between wanting to kiss or punch the guy.

He settles for a kick to the shin. “Be quiet!”

A chanting yelp,” Ow! Ow! Ow! Kuroo-san, help!”

Wheezing laughter as Kuroo sounds like a dying hyena beside them, tickled by their display of ‘flirting’. “No way! He’s all yours now, Lev. Just watch out - he’s an ankle biter.”

Next thing that happens is that Kuroo is kneeling on the ground, groaning in pain where he’s been gut punched. Yaku knows Kenma will forgive him if he runs inside the house and locks himself in the guest bedroom for a little while. He has to get his heart to calm down, wills the heat in his face to simmer and die.

What is he going to do now? If Lev talks to him like that again, he might do something really embarrassing, like forgive him and ask him out on a date.


	17. Kuroo/Bokuto (ENDGAME MULTI)

27\. we had one-night stands with roommates and sneak out of the house at the same time  
Pairing : Kuroo/Bokuto (side Kuroo/Yaku + Bokuto/Akaashi + endgame foursome)

Bokuto closes the bedroom door slowly, attempting to be quiet, hoping not to disturb the sleeping occupant. He’s not used to one-night stands, but he’s also painfully aware that the very pretty man that picked him up from the bar was probably not looking for anything more than a hook-up. He’d left his number on a bedside table and tried not to get his hopes up.

He silently pumped his fist in the air, triumphant in his escape. Ready to leave through the front door, Bokuto’s eyes catch on something shiny in his peripheral-

Freezing because _holy shit there’s a person there!_

A tall individual with a serious case of sex hair is staring at him, brow raised in question, smirking at him. The glinting came off the multiple piercings in his ear, the moonlight shining through a window casting shadows across the other’s face yet giving enough light for Bokuto to notice full sleeve tattoos on each arm.

_Hot_, is his first thought. Then, _oh shit is he the roommate?_

“I, uh…”

A finger to lips, shushing him. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I’m heading out too - he’s also asleep. Thought I heard a commotion in the next room, but I was too occupied to pay much attention.”

Bokuto flushes, feeling oddly naked under that stare. He shouldn’t feel too awkward since they’re in the same boat. They move in sync, away from the bedroom doors, but the other man doesn’t let him go far, trailing fingers softly down the length of his arm to get him to halt.

“If you’re lonely after this,” said after the licking of pink lips,” you can come with me.”

And, curse him and his libido, he is seriously thinking that might be a nice idea. Here’s a hot, handsome stranger inviting him for round two of a good time. Either he’s lucky or about to get murdered tonight.

A door opening startles them both. In the doorway stands Akaashi, sleep rumpled in sweatpants, eyes a little dazed. His attention sharpens when he notices Bokuto and the man, “Oh, so you are still here.”

Bokuto’s heart sinks a little because _damn_ he’d hoped for something more with Akaashi after such a wonderful night, but those hopes had been dashed. To make matters worse, a second door opens and out pops a short figure wearing only an oversized T-shirt, rubbing an eye sleepily.

“‘Kaashi? Are you okay?” Then he seems to notice that there are two other people also in the hallway. “Kuroo? I thought you, um, left.”

“On my way out, Yakkun.”

There’s a pout, the crossing of arms, a shy expression. “You don’t have to,” is a quiet mumble.

And now Bokuto is jealous. He’s ready to run the hell out of here, but gets frozen to the spot when he sees Akaashi slink over to his roommate, movements fluid as he pulls his friend, Yaku, into a bare chest.

“Did you not get enough,” a tease through smiling lips. “Did he not satisfy you?”

“A-Akaashi,” moaned as a hand reaches around, pulling up the shirt to reveal more skin, smoothing over a freckled butt. Yaku is whimpering, burying his face in Akaashi’s shoulder, a tremble in his legs noticeable to the audience they have.

And Bokuto is a thousand times more envious that Kuroo has been invited to stay.

Then Akaashi looks over at them, gives them the slow once-over, prickling heat along Bokuto’s skin just like at the bar. “You can stay and watch or participate. No one said either of you had to leave.”

Bokuto perks up, visibly happy and then a firm weight is on the back of his neck, fingertips teasing the hairs on his neck. He gasps as a pair of lips soon follow to press at his ear with hot breath and a heated promise.

“‘Suppose we can have a little fun right next to them if you want. I’d love to put you on your back, see what you look like underneath these thrift store clothes.”

“Hey,” offendedness dampened by lust,” I bought these at H&M.”

Laughter in his ear,” Could’ve fooled me. Would look better on the floor anyway.”

“You can fuck him right next to Yaku,” Akaashi breaks into their little bubble, drawing their eyes. Yaku has his cheek squished onto his roommate’s shoulder, watching them with parted lips and lustful eyes, hips subtly jerking back from whatever Akaashi is doing with his fingers. Then Bokuto looks into Akaashi’s eyes and moans outright at the simmering heat behind dilated pupils, imploring him to lie down and show off what he can take and give.

“Bed.” Yaku’s voice is quiet yet insistent, beseeching them with an arch of his spine, a bead of sweat that rolls down his neck.

No one has the heart to deny him, or themselves for that matter.


	18. Sakusa/Komori

29\. I’m a professional athlete and I just fired my personal assistant and my manager sent you over but you don’t even know what sport I play or who my team is  
Pairing : Sakusa/Komori

“You’re too picky,” his manager had sighed.

“I need someone who can do it right,” he’d countered because when did Sakusa apologize for being himself?

“I can’t find a replacement this late! You’re a nightmare to work with and your reputation has already landed you in hot water! If I get someone else, you better stick with them or having a personal assistant is going to be a privilege you’ll lose.”

Sakusa didn’t care. And that is how Komori came into his life.

“You play volleyball? On a national team?”

“Yes,” a quiet tone affirms.

Sakusa was not sure what to make of Komori when he was introduced by his manager three days ago. The man was bright, took joy in every little thing, greeted everyone with a smile and wave. He was friendly, too friendly for someone as reserved as Sakusa who didn’t like crowds and loathed social interaction.

“That’s really cool! I hope you like cucumbers because they had a sale yesterday and I bought so many! I’m still looking up recipes to use all of them.”

Watching Komori scurry around to feed him a healthy meal after a workout was oddly entertaining. As much as high energy people such as Komori usually made Sakusa’s skin crawl, the more time they spent together, the more he’d come to enjoy his new personal assistant’s company. Komori knew nothing about him, didn’t treat him as some prodigy, didn’t make him talk (to be fair he could talk for the both of them, the chatterbox) and, most importantly, seemed to understand and not judge Sakusa’s strange habits and aversions.

Only a day ago, he’d planned to fire him. Now, standing with his smug smiling manager, the thought sent a pang of pain through his chest. “You sure you don’t want me to keep searching for someone new? He clearly has no experience.”

Sakusa thought of his annoyance and being followed, of Komori contributing him into conversations with his colleagues, remembered the way Komori’s laugh and smile had begun to ease the nerves crawling like spiders over his body whenever they were faced with crowds of fans.

“No,” he informs. “He’ll do for now.”


	19. Terushima/Yamaguchi

30\. my friend was coming onto you but you were clearly not comfortable so I tell them that I called dibs before they came in and they walk away and you slap me because you’re not a thing someone can call ‘dibs’ on but really, I said that so they’d move on because they’re kind of an ass  
Pairing : Terushima/Yamaguchi (+Bobata)

Terushima shook his head, trying not to laugh. Despite his amusement, he did feel bad that his friend was clearly striking out, Bobata’s flirting falling flat as his victim shrunk in on himself like a frightened rabbit. As fun as it was to watch for a short time, now it was becoming painful. He downs the rest of his drink, gin and cola, before tucking his hands in his pockets and waddling over.

“Bobata! You can’t be serious!” He has to shout out over the booming music of the club, subconsciously leaning closer to avoid the bodies bumping and grinding around them. He jerks his head back to their table where a few buddies are taking shots. “He’s mine tonight, I called dibs, you shit!”

“My bad,” comes loud and clear as the arm around the trembling guy pulls off and Bobata is brushing passed Terushima with an encouraging thumbs up.

He’s grinning, an apology on his lips when a slap smacks against his cheek. “What the fuck,” he yelps, pressing a hand on the reddened skin in surprise.

“I’m not an object,” the cute boy tells him in a shaky voice.

Really he feels bad, he shouldn’t find this amusing or be distracted by freckles across the bridge of a nose and pouty lips. Yet, he is laughing in the next breath, wanting to know the guy’s name and number, ready to explain that it was said to get Bobata off his back, that he’s interested in buying the guy a drink if he can. He can only hope he hasn’t earned another slap.


	20. Daichi/Sugawara

31\. I cancel our first date when I find out you have a kid because no thank you, and then I meet your kid a few weeks later and we start to get to know each other and when they introduce me to you I feel like an idiot  
Pairing : Daichi/Suga

“I feel like an idiot.”

“You are one,” Ennoshita agrees with no remorse,” a huge stinking one.”

Suga groans and buries his head in his arms. He’d made a terrible mistake. A heaping, terrible mistake. Now he was realizing that big time because _holy shit so many things I couldn’t have known but make a really big difference to how I’m feeling right about now_.

Ennoshita had introduced him to a friend, a very hot friend. Like the kind of hot that came with really nice thighs, hard hands and strong arms. The kind of hot that made Suga do a double-take and forget what a handshake was.

Daichi was everything Suga wanted in a man. They’d loosened up around each other almost instantly, flirting and bantering, Suga laid a hand on his bicep and thought he could die happy. Was this love at first sight? He honestly thought it might be.

And after? Like the dumb little bitch he is, Suga started grilling more details from Ennoshita after the first date had already been set up. He’d been so excited, wanted to be on game and know a thing or two to make sure he wasn’t going in completely blind. But then… Suga learned about him having a kid from a previous relationship and everything soured.

“I didn’t know!” He bemoans now, head lifting up enough to hope for pity, but Ennoshita just raises a brow of mockery and '_you did this to yourself_'. He hadn’t realized he had **babysat** the kid before, that his friend Yui was the ex, that Daichi was a wonderful dad and it would not be the kind of nightmare situation he’d been envisioning when cancelling the date.

“That’s my daddy!” The happy voice of Riichi exclaimed last Monday when he was being picked up. Suga had been okay with the hand-off after Yui asked him, running late for work as she struggled to put on her shoes and run out the door. He was curious to see this mysterious guy that Yui sometimes sadly reflected on during their late night talks.

He’d expected anyone else, really. And what he got was…

“S-Sawamura!”


	21. Oikawa/Iwaizumi & Semi/Shirabu

33\. you’re a nobody actor who comes in for a chemistry read for the part of my love interest but we end up arguing instead of reading [maybe I like that about you and demand for you to be hired or maybe I’m annoyed that you spoke to me like that so I say that I don’t want to work with you and they hire you anyway  
Pairing : Oikawa/Iwaizumi (I like that about you) & Semi/Shirabu (Hired you anyway)

1\. Oikawa/Iwaizumi

Iwaizumi wanted a gig, he wanted to be an actor. This is not how he envisioned it.

“No, no, no!” A voice, whiny and entitled, stopped him before he could finish reading the next sentence. “You have to give it _meaning_! You need to give it **emotion**!”

He grits his teeth, looks this Oikawa in the eye and grits out,” That’s what I’m doing!”

“You’re just reading it,” huffed by this insufferable asshole, thinking that two global awards was going to protect him from having a chair thrown at his pretty little head. “Anyone can do that. I need someone that can work with me.”

“The hell are you on about? All you do is bat your eyes and be all dramatic while you strut like a peacock for your fans.”

“_**Excuse**_ you! I am a professional actor that has paved the way for many roles to take shape in movies and shows for the eyes of millions. I will not be slandered by a nobody.”

Iwaizumi saw red, his chair knocked back as he stood, fisting the script in his hands until his knuckles turned white. Not wanting to be looked down upon, Oikawa rose to his full height, gaze challenging. He was not deterred as he shouted,” Take this dumb shit and shove it up your ass then!”

Without waiting for a retort, Iwaizumi stomps off. His manager apologizes profusely, trying to salvage whatever was left after that whirlwind encounter.

Oikawa watches Iwaizumi’s back until he’s disappeared, the door slamming to announce his exit. There is a smile growing on his face, sharp and wicked, intrigued and impressed by the display he’s witnessed. “Beautiful,” he breathes.

“Oikawa-san?”

“Hire him,” he demands. “I want him back here tomorrow afternoon.”

The manager, astonished, nods quickly. “I-I’ll tell him the good news!”

_Good news_, Oikawa muses to himself. _Wonderfully good news_.

2\. Semi/Shirabu

“I will NOT work with him,” Semi seethes, throwing his jacket down on a chair aggressively to showcase his frustration.

“Calm down,” Reon, his manager, shakes his head at the start of a tantrum. “I understand your reluctance, but this is a good opportunity to learn how to work with different kinds of people and build up a repertoire with newer roles.”

“He’s too much! He’s disrespectful!”

A smile. “He does very well in his roles and has worked with many of your co-stars.”

“He’s an ass,” he hisses, pouting with crossed arms. He was well-aware of Shirabu’s co-star history with fellow actors he’d called friends after being replaced on his own show two years ago. Tendou had laughed about it for a solid month.

Semi eyes Reon suspiciously. “I thought you promised me I wouldn’t have to compete with him for this show?”

“You don’t,” spoken mildly,” that’s why you’re the love interest.”

Shirabu was young, applied for many roles they both were looking for, able to play a range that was both impressive and ridiculous. The thought of having to pretend to like the guy for more than two seconds was already giving him a headache. To top it off, the role was for a love interest and having to _kiss_ the guy was going to be a nightmare too.

“I’m not going to kiss him.”

“Might not have to. We can negotiate.”

“Holding hands? Gross, he probably has sweaty palms.”

“Understandable.”

Semi looks down at the contract in his hands, ready to be signed. He thinks about the opportunity, the payroll, the doors this will open for him in the next year when he’s scouting for larger roles. He sighs,” I’m going to have to kiss him, aren’t I?”


	22. Ennoshita/Tanaka

36\. it’s mid-apocalypse and you break into my secret shelter and I swear I’ll kill you if you don’t give me three damn good reasons why I shouldn’t  
Pairing : Ennoshita/Tanaka

Tanaka needed a lot of things. Ever since the fall of mankind, he’d been leading a hard life on his own. Scouting and scavenging came naturally when survival was at stake. A bag full of tools and food, light enough not to drag him down, just barely enough to get him from week to week (but what was time anymore when clocks stopped ticking and life turned into a horror movie?).

A town isn’t that far ahead, deserted and dusty like a child’s forgotten toy. It’s a prime spot for finding useful things, if it hasn’t already been ransacked. He finds a non-rusted screwdriver abandoned in an alley, unused toothpicks in a convenience store and extra shoelaces taken from shoes that were lying around and not his size.

He enters a little shop, sign too corroded to read, the little faint ‘_ding_’ of the entrance bell making him pause before venturing further in. It looks just as abandoned as the rest of the town, products having fallen off the shelves, an empty cashier station. He sees a can of soup, probably outdated, old magazines with saucy covers and then his eyes cross when the barrel of a gun pokes his forehead.

Tanaka freezes. He’s in danger.

“Give me three reasons not to shoot and I may not kill you.”

“Uh, I have food.”

“I’ll just take it off you when you’re dead.”

A gulp. “Two heads are better than one?”

“And two mouths to feed are harder to manage.”

Tanaka might die, so he chances leaning around the gun a little and face his possible murderer. “Holy shit, you’re kind of hot.”

Surprised laughter has the gun lowering and Tanaka is grinning too, hands still in the air in a gesture of submission. This guy, dark hair and coal eyes, stares back at him with a smile, equal parts incredulous and amused. “Okay, I’ll let you live for now.”

“Sweet. I haven’t met another person in months. I’m Tanaka.”

“Ennoshita,” a hand stretched out in greeting, a firm shake accompanying their smiles,” and I’m hungry as all hell. Whatcha got to share?”


	23. Tanaka/Daichi (side Kiyoko/Yachi)

37\. your potential future-father-in-law has hired my P.I. office to uncover any dirt on you, but you catch onto me following you and demand to know what I want and who hired me and it does not go well  
Pairing : Tanaka/Daichi (side Kiyoko/Yachi)

Tanaka had one job : follow and gather information. Simple, right? Many cases his P.I. office took happened to be easy, even boring. It’d been a toss up between himself and his bestfriend, Nishinoya, on taking this particular case, new and shiny with the promise of a good sum of cash. Tanaka was interested in the story behind it, not something unfamiliar, but the kind he understood.

A father was suspicious of this mysterious man his daughter was seeing. Kiyoko, as it turned out, was drop dead gorgeous and belonged to a semi-wealthy family. Her smile was gentle, her eyes were grey storm clouds, the silky shine of her black hair looked soft to touch… Ahem, back to the point at hand : Daichi was from a different background, typical guy going to Law School, on the right side of handsome and strong sense of character who people admired and liked well enough.

Tanaka had his suspicions as well. The guy came out of nowhere about three weeks ago, Kiyoko introduced him as her boyfriend and Daichi remained polite, but distant. Of course the father was going to want some answers and that is what lead Tanaka on this two week long investigation. He trailed Daichi from his apartment to his work and back again. Sometimes he went out to the bar with friends and Tanaka watched him smile and laugh, joke and jostle with his friends, saw a side of him that appeared non-existent in any of the photos he’d taken of the “dates” Kiyoko and Daichi went on. It was almost as if the couple were more business than affection and that is what tipped the scale from mere suspicion to curious scrutiny.

Every Friday the two had a date, if it could be called that, where they went into Daichi’s apartment and didn’t come out until the next morning when he needed to leave for work. Problem was, Tanaka never saw her leave. Each time Kiyoko was gone, confirmed by her father when he had inquired about her whereabouts the first time he’d witnessed Daichi come and go with no sign of his supposed girlfriend.

How was she leaving without being seen? A private, short talk with a nice elderly neighbor that lived a floor down from his target mentioned a backdoor that led to a courtyard in the back of the apartments with an alley that acted as a back entrance and exit.

“Who the hell are you?”

And that is how Tanaka got caught, using the back entrance to do further research and was spotted trying to look in through one of the kitchen windows. Being pulled inside the apartment by the back of his shirt and slammed into a kitchen counter was not how he planned things to go down. Daichi, more handsome up close and _holy shit those muscles_, in his face, nose to nose, was making it hard to think.

A pull and push, intimidation and threat more than actual harm accompanied by a harsh command. “Tell me who sent you, who you work for. _**Now**_.”

Tanaka panics, sputters, nonsense and half-formed sentences of “Well, you see, it’s not what you think!” and “Please don’t punch me, I swear I didn’t come here to be creepy”.

“Sawamura?” Kiyoko’s lyrical voice questions as she stands in the kitchen doorway. Tanaka is surprised to see another face hiding behind her, shaking from fear, of blonde hair and wide, hazel eyes.

“I found him stalking us from outside. Answer my questions!”

The bark startles him into action, explaining,” I-I’m a P.I. hired, um, by her father.” He hesitates in raising and pointing a finger in Kiyoko’s direction, shrinking under their scrutiny.

A sigh. “Let him go, Sawamura. He’s telling the truth.”

“How do you know?” Daichi let’s go of him, steps back to address her.

“I’ve had my suspicions. I’d hoped your reputation would be enough to sway him, but…”

Tanaka watches the exchange with intrigue. He clears his throat, smiling sheepishly when all attention is back on him. “Look, I just want to understand what’s going on. Your father is worried about you and your future. I know everyone needs their secrets, but worrying him isn’t going to solve anything. If you can give me anything to give back to him that’ll help ease his mind…”

His eyes are drawn back to the unknown girl, a friend? She squeaks and hides further behind Kiyoko who looks contemplative and protective. “This… is my girlfriend, Yachi.”

Tanaka blinks… blinks again… and once more. “Oh.”

“My father would not approve. He wants me to marry someone of his choosing, more so for the family than for my own happiness. I understand,” she emphasizes as if this is really important,” that you are under the assumption that his care isn’t self-motivated, but it is.”

“So…” He scratches his head, honestly perplexed. “You’re her fake boyfriend?”

Daichi nods, crosses his arms and damn it if those biceps aren’t distracting. At least this solves most of the mystery : the detachment, their strange “dates” and the sneaky atmosphere of it all. Now he feels more like a right fool for getting involved.

“I’d appreciate your discretion.” Kiyoko’s eyes turn to steel, demanding more than she is suggesting.

“I’m not here to get in the way of love,” he replies immediately because it is the truth. He’d also been worried for her, but this isn’t something he should stop or intervene in. If anything he’s happy that she actually has someone she loves, however, saddened at the notion that she must do so in secret. “Are you sure you can’t talk this over with your father?”

“I cannot.”

This time Daichi sighs, recapturing Tanaka’s attention. “Would you be willing to help us then?”

“Help you? How?”

“You’re a P.I. and giving information over, right? What if you… fed him certain information that’ll make things easier on all of us.”

“I also don’t do false advertising. It erases the integrity of my job.”

“Please,” a meek voice reaches out to him, a hand held palm up to urge his decision to sway and turn over. Looking up at this petite girl, Yachi, proves to be a mistake as her expression tears at his heart. “Please help us.”

_These are good people_. Tanaka is reminded of Daichi at the bar with his friends, jovial and carefree. He’s sure if he stuck around, he’d find all three can be open to themselves without wearing a mask, without being afraid of who saw them.

“I… I can try.”

Yachi’s smile is bright and it heals some of the guilt in his heart. A hand claps his shoulder, a firm and encouraging grip that bleeds warmth into his skin even through the barrier of his shirt. “Thank you,” Daichi says with a charming grin. “You won’t regret it.”


	24. Bokuto/Akaashi

38\. I overhear you ordering your coffee in a coffee shop and I’m trying to place your voice when I realize that you’re the phone sex operator I’ve been calling on and off for the last few months but the realization startles me so much that I accidentally spill my drink on you and you’re pissed  
Pairing : Bokuto/Akaashi

Loneliness drove a man to do many things, some innocent and some not so much. For Bokuto, who was full of energy and needed social interaction, he had plenty of avenues to follow. The local coffee shop being a great place to befriend baristas and possibly become friends with patrons that were nice enough to let him share a table with them.

Ever since he got this new job and moved away from home, he’d been feeling awfully down lately. None of his friends or family lived close by and travelling back cost too much money to be afforded to do more than twice a month. His apartment was small and his neighbors didn’t like talking to him or complained if he played his music or TV too loud. His social life took a big plummet and it was severely affecting him mentally.

Hence why he went to the coffee shop every other day, where it smelled nice and he was a big fan of the croissants they made. He was on a first name basis with most of the staff : fond of Yachi who was shy and Kuroo’s bantering jokes, how Mai remembered he liked extra cream in his coffee and the quirky nicknames he and Konoha came up with for each other.

A recent development was him making late night calls to a phone sex operator. When he was at his loneliest, when he needed that extra push to warm his belly and bed, he called a certain number and asked for _Keishi_ to cure the gaping hole in his life. Bokuto would be lying if he said that he wasn’t enamored by the sultry, sensual voice that followed into his dreams. Each call left him feeling wrapped in attention, tingles from his head to his toes, even during the nights where he just wanted to talk about anything without a heated exchange.

“Boo-boo boy!” Konoha calls for him, grinning as he hands over his coffee and croissant.

“Real funny, Korny!” He takes his order with an answering grin, turning about face to scan for a table with a friendly face. He’s frozen when he hears a call for “Keiji” and a murmuring voice he recognizes moving towards him.

The man he sees is beautiful, pretty cheekbones are what he notices first, then a cute nose and piercing eyes, the soft look to dark, black locks of hair and the shape of a kissable mouth. What really stands out is the voice talking in low tones to Yachi, accepting a coffee and bagel order.

_It’s him_, a frantic thought that breaks through the sudden static. _It’s really him!_

The man, Keiji, is moving now, away from Bokuto and that will not do. So he steps forward hurriedly, reaching out a hand to do something, but overreaches and pitches forward too far. He knocks into his target’s back, effectively spilling his coffee on the back of this Keiji’s pants. _Oops, not a good first impression. Or is it the second?_

The back turns and the unamused, pissed off look he gets is cold enough to nearly stop his heart. “Uh, hi. Sorry about that - let me get you, um, some napkins.”

_How am I supposed to tell you I’ve started to fall in love with you over the phone._


	25. Kuroo/Yaku

40\. a website for our campus pops up rating people based on their looks and allowing people to leave anonymous comments and for reasons, you think that I’m the one who has created this shitty site (except my roommate and I have been trying to take it down)  
Pairing : Kuroo/Yaku (+roommate Kenma & culprit Suguru)

Frustrated, Kuroo takes off his glasses and rubbed two fingers against his forehead, trying to ward off the beginnings of a headache. He sighs and slumps in his chair, shooting a glance at Kenma, hunched in his own chair, fingers speeding across the computer keyboard without pause. “This feels hopeless.”

“If I can decode this encryption, I’ll be able to trace back to the computer that did this.”

“What if they have a VPN?”

“Kuroo, we know who did it. All I need is a trace to prove that they did.”

“Yeah, but Suguru is smart. He wouldn’t make it easy.”

Kenma stops typing to send him a look. “That’s why you have me.”

“Kenma -”

A bang at their dorm door startles them both, exchanging a look before Kuroo gets up to answer it. Behind the door reveals a short, very red-faced and angry young man. They know him as Yaku, a fellow programmer major, and Kuroo may have developed a little crush.

“You,” is hissed as a finger jabs into Kuroo’s ribs, pushing him back into the room so Yaku can kick the door shut and raise his voice in a shout,” are beyond awful!”

“Yakkun,” he lets the purr roll, isn’t shy at letting his interest be known. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit and wild accusation? I’ll have you know I’m an absolute saint.”

“No you’re not,” Kenma chimes in.

“You call making a website to rate people’s butts innocent?”

“Oh,” and the dread and need to explain has him blustering,” no, no! You got it all wrong!”

“You think I want comments on the way I dress, or to rate me out of 10, or poke fun at my _height_,” Yaku seethes. Kuroo may be taller, but he is a no defenseless kitten. His claws will reach and hurt, dig deep and leave marks so people remember he isn’t to be taken advantage of. “I want it taken down!”

“We are trying! We - I didn’t make it in the first place!”

“But we know who did,” Kenma helpfully supplies, keyboard smashing away without pause.

“Who?” Yaku bypasses Kuroo, ignoring his continued sputtering as he moves to stand behind Kenma’s chair, peering around his shoulder. “Who is the idiot who did this then?”

“Suguru,” spoken with ire,” always making trouble.”

“The Graphics Design guy that looks…. shifty? I think I know his girlfriend.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Hold on one minute… you thought _I_ was the one who made it?” Yaku looks over his shoulder and gives Kuroo a shrug. “I’m honestly offended, how dare you.”

“You smile like a sleaze ball, of course I did.”

“Hey! I have a nice smile!” He pouts, touching his jaw.

“I thought you set it up because of my profile.”

“What? That dumb thing? It didn’t even get the color of your eyes right.”

Yaku turns fully now to regard him. “And how do you know the color of my eyes?”

Kuroo’s smile is without hesitation. “I’ve been too busy dreaming about them not to memorize it, you know.”

“Corny. I figured you were the only person to call me that dumb nickname too.”

“Yakkun is a cute nickname! Besides, it’s definitely not me because those ratings were wack.”

“Really? And what would you have rated me?”

“Face? Solid 8/10. Style? You get points for cute so 7/10. As for your butt…” Yaku raises a brow, crossing his arms as he waits, unimpressed with Kuroo’s smirk. “10/10, would tap.”

“You’re gross. You really call this flirting?”

“Unfortunately yes,” Kenma states, key-clacking noises consistent background noise.

“All I’m saying… is that maybe after we -”

“I’m getting all the leads.”

“Okay, after _Kenma_ finishes nailing the coffin in Suguru’s little fun adventure, maybe we could do something together. I do more than type up code on a computer.”

Yaku eyes him until Kuroo is itching in his skin, the anticipation crawling across his flesh, leaving goosebumps. “I’ll think about it.”


	26. Kuroo/Bokuto

41\. I’m at the 24/7 gym at 2 in the morning and I thought I was alone so I’m singing in the showers, but when you start singing with me, I’m startled and slip so the first time we meet, we’re both wet and naked  
Pairing : Kuroo/Bokuto

Bokuto really liked the new 24 hour gym that was built down the street from his house. Because he worked two jobs currently, his morning job and evening workout routine fell to the wayside and he was looking forward to getting back into the rhythm of it. At 2 a.m. it was basically empty except for the two nightshift workers, the ones stationed on Tuesdays and Thursdays he’d come to know very well.

One of the great benefits about using this particular gym were the clean showers. All Bokuto needed was to bring a little bottle of shampoo and body wash in his bag and he was all set to let the warm spray take away the aches in his shoulders and legs. Another fun thing about going to the gym at 2 a.m. is that he can do his favorite activity in the shower…

“Wouldn't it be nice if we were older,” he sang, off key,” then we wouldn't have to wait so long?”

When he had a roommate, it used to drive them crazy because he liked his showers late at night when most people were already asleep. Bokuto just wanted to come home from a long day at work, give his muscles some good ol’ exercise and then sing in the shower like a happy man content with life. Was that too much to ask for?

He was really getting into it, didn’t have to worry about someone poking fun at his love for the Beach Boys. “Happy times together we've been spending I wish that every kiss was never ending Oh, wouldn't it be nice? Maybe if we think and wish and hope and pray It might come true!”

Then a voice carried across the shower area, loud and clear, mingling with his own, echoing off the tile walls. “Baby, then there wouldn't be a single thing we couldn't do!”

Bokuto is startled so bad, he drops his bar of soap, steps on it and slips to land hard on his ass. He yelps, trying to look around through his fringe of wet hair. He can’t believe it! “A-Are you a ghost?”

Wheezing laughter is the next echoing sound he hears before the wet slap of footsteps approach. Why hadn’t he heard a second shower running? A figure stops infront of his stall, tall enough to peer over the small dividing door that holds a little privacy for users.

He too is looking through a long fringe of wet hair, black in contrast to his own white dyed mess. “You alright there, buddy?”

“I thought I was alone,” Bokuto explains lamely, belatedly covering his crotch with a washcloth.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m not a ghost.”

“A ghost that is summoned by the Beach Boys would be kinda cool.”

Another wheeze of laughter and the shaking of a head, flicking droplets onto Bokuto’s face. He finally stands up, still a little embarrassed. He almost feels like his space has been invaded, but remembers that this is a public place.

“I’m Kuroo, by the way. Sorry I scared you on your ass.”

That makes Bokuto grin, moving a hand to clasp and shake the one he’s offered. Funny how he’s naked, the embarrassment rapidly cooling off his cheeks, and somehow still managed to make a friend one early morning in a near empty gym.

“Bokuto. Never had a duet buddy before!”


	27. Yahaba/Kyoutani

45\. you’re not the first stubborn, angry, rude physical therapy patient I’ve worked with and you won’t be the last, but you might be the first to get under my skin  
Pairing : Yahaba/Kyoutani

Yahaba became a physical therapist to help people, as most people do when they find themselves following a career path in medicine. His patients ranged from polite and apologetic to downright insulting. Every patient was dealing with an emotional toll as well as physical, he had to remind himself of that with the harder clients. His newest, Kyoutani, was the rudest, most feral client he had to date, default angry with deep scowls and stubborn about following exercises and directions.

Usually it was fine. Yahaba had steeled himself over the last two years while working, stomached worse than arguments and empty threats. His training in medical school hardened his heart and mind to tackle difficulties efficiently and without personal bias.

But Kyoutani was probably the first client he ever had that got under his skin.

“This is pointless.”

“It’s not. You’re making progress. Slow progress, but progress all the same.”

Kyoutani’s scowl took on a frustrated edge, arms shaking as he tried to force his legs into cooperating, using parallel steel bars to hold himself upright. Losing control of his legs had affected every part of his life, going from walking one moment to a wheelchair the next was a shock nothing could have prepared him for. It wasn’t that he felt weak or that he looked down on anyone in this position, but the plans he’d had, the unconscious security and convenience that came with mobility, was suddenly gone.

Being paired with Yahaba felt like a kick to the face. He was good-looking, had a successful career, well-liked and could move with freedom Kyoutani once had. It made him angry and bitter, even if Yahaba never rubbed it in his face or treated him as lesser. He still spit insults and ignored instructions, metaphorically kicked his feet the only way he could now.

“I fucking give up.”

“You’re almost halfway across,” Yahaba goes for encouraging, trying not to let his own frustration bleed into his voice. “You can do this. You’re almost there.”

“I’m not a little kid, asshole.”

“You act like one. Probably pick your nose like one too.”

A grunt as Kyoutani manages another step, legs shaky, but moving even if only by the smallest of margins. Yahaba followed from behind, arms outstretched to cushion and catch the other if he fell. He was almost proud of how far they’d come, inch upon inch may have seemed like nothing, however, Yahaba knew these were steps to climbing mountains of obstacles Kyoutani still faced.

Another grunt, another move forward -

“Woah there,” Yahaba huffed out as Kyoutani started to collapse, fatigued and sweating from the exertion. “You did good today, let’s get you -”

“Fuck! Fuck this! I hate this, I’m not getting anywhere!”

Yahaba sighed, used to the tirade. “I know it’s tough, but so are you. You’re -”

“It’s been weeks,” Kyoutani growls, struggling in Yahaba’s hold, but where is he going to go? “I’m never getting better. You’re giving me hope out of fucking failure.”

“I’m not -” Yahaba stops, realizes his voice has raised, hackles rising. He must be calm, he can’t let this get under his skin. It’s aggravating the way Kyoutani cracks him open, reaches passed all his defenses to touch his raw edges. “I’m not giving you false hope. You are making progress. You have to take the small victories -”

“Cut the shit. I’m tired of the fucking peppy spiel from everyone.”

“Then what do you want me to say? That it’s okay to lie down and be miserable for the rest of your life? I know you want the freedom back, but being like this doesn’t make you pathetic either. Stop looking down on yourself and everyone else!”

He doesn’t mean to shout, he doesn’t mean to let them sink to the floor in a tangled pile. He doesn’t intend to let his personal feelings take hold and shape into a desperate plea. He doesn’t want to face the fact that he’s become invested in a way he never has before.

“No one is pathetic just because they have a disability,” Kyoutani says quietly, a tone of defeat and slight offense. “What’s pathetic is feeling like a piece of shit for having one. What’s pathetic is giving every fucking one trying to help you a hard time.”

Kyoutani cranes his head to look at Yahaba who is still holding him in what now could be called an embrace. There are tears, threatening to spill, in both their eyes.

“I’m not giving up on you,” Yahaba vows. In his heart he knows he means it.


	28. Kageyama/Yamaguchi

50\. we bump into each other so often that the first time we talk, you demand to know why I’m following you and if your ex set me up for this and I swear it’s a coincidence but you don’t seem to believe me  
Pairing : Kageyama/Yamaguchi

Kageyama knows of Yamaguchi. They work in the same office building, on the same floor, they get coffee from the same pot, come in around the same time and leave around the same time too. It’s not strange that they bump into each other a lot because of their work environment. That bled into life outside of the office when they saw each other at the post office and then again at the grocery store and even once crossing the street that led to a small park.

Kageyama concluded they must also live near each other. A coincidence, right?

Color him surprised when he recently moved apartments and found out who his right side neighbor was going to be. It was partly a relief because they were amicable and Yamaguchi didn’t appear to be the type that hosted loud house parties.

“Hey -”

“Are you following me? Stalking me?” Panicked questioning with an undercurrent of anger turns Kageyama’s greeting into shocked silence. “Did Tsukishima pay you to do this?”

That churns something sour in his stomach. Tsukishima Kei was not someone Kageyama got along with, but the recent promotion pulled Tsukishima two floors up and out of sight. What he also knew was that Yamaguchi had dated him for a long time and the break up was office gossip for a month afterwards. He genuinely thought Yamaguchi was too nice for someone like sharp-tongued Tsukishima.

He also may have a little crush on his kind officemate.

“That twat can eat my stapler.”

Yamaguchi blinks back at him, accessing his words. “You… you don’t like him.”

“No,” he replies honestly,” I don’t. And I always thought you could do better.” For once his bluntness pays off as Yamaguchi’s cheeks color a rosy red. It’s cute, cute enough to get his heart thumping. Maybe he could salvage this afterall. “Guess we’re neighbors now too. Oh, uh, and I’m not a stalker.”

Yamaguchi’s laugh is breathy. “I hope not.”


	29. Kageyama/Suga (possible MULTI)

51\. an old high school rival snidely asks if I’m still single ‘like always’ when we bump into each other at the bar, so I grab you and introduce you as my significant other … except that you’re my rival’s S.O. and they demand an explanation and fuck  
Pairing : Kageyama/Suga (+Oikawa/Suga)

Kageyama didn’t like the bar scene that much, but breaking up with his girlfriend drove him to drown his sorrows at least for tonight so he could face tomorrow. Not exactly classy, but everyone had to live a little, right? To avoid most of his friends, he chose a local gay bar he’d been to once or twice, a place he knows most of them didn’t frequent.

He’d started chatting up a nice fellow to his left at the bar, pretty with light grey hair that complimented lovely brown eyes and a cute birthmark under one eye. Kageyama didn’t like talking about his troubles much, but this Sugawara was friendly and empathetic, listening with a kind smile and comforting murmurs that sent warm tingles up his spine. It was beginning to be a good night… until an old rival showed his face.

“Tobio-chan!” Highschool rival, Oikawa, appeared next to Sugawara, flashing a smile that may have appeared friendly if not for the sharp, menacing quality to a flash of teeth.

“Oikawa-san.” Even through the begrudging state of their relationship, Kageyama still admired and respected his senior, strived to be and surpass him.

The dancing mirth in dark, chocolate eyes belies impending doom. “Interesting to see you here of all places. I didn’t peg you as a social butterfly such as myself. You’ve always been quite the hermit even when imitating a leech.”

A brow twitches, annoyance has a hand clutching the half-filled glass of scotch on the bartop. “I assure you, I’m capable of mingling, Oikawa-san.”

“Are you still single like always too? Or has that finally changed for you?”

Kageyama can feel his anger flare, bright and hot due to the jab, but also to the acknowledgement of still fresh pain. “Actually,” he says on a whim, a hand reaching out to rest on top of Suga’s, believing he’ll play along after hearing Kageyama’s sad story at least for tonight,” this is my boyfriend.”

Oikawa looks positively miffed and Kageyama has about three seconds to feel empowered until a fury lights a fire in Oikawa’s eyes. “Suga-chan, darling, how is that possible?”

Kageyama’s wide eyes dart from Oikawa to Sugawara, dread dropping like a stone in his stomach. Suga, to his credit, has been quietly watching the entire exchange, sipping his drink in silence. Now he licks his lips, shoots Oikawa a teasing smile and then leans against Kageyama’s shoulder affectionately.

“We just met, isn’t he dreamy? I’m thinking about leaving you for him.”

There’s a lot of sputtering and indignant tantrum from Oikawa’s part that follows, Suga sends him a wink and pats his shoulder. It’s a joke, obviously, Suga playing along to give his, apparently, significant other hell for picking on poor Kageyama. Becoming fed up, Oikawa slaps money down on the bartop, grabs Sugawara’s hand and marches them both towards the door. He can imagine the whining and pouting that’ll continue outside in mock privacy, wonders if Suga will use gentle hands to calm him, if he’ll kiss Oikawa silent.

And, uh oh, Kageyama is in trouble because his heart might be stolen.


	30. Daichi/Tanaka

52\. you think I’m leering at you in the gym but really I’m studying your form and trying to learn how to make mine better  
Pairing : Daichi/Tanaka

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

The words snap Tanaka out of his daze, eyes trailing up strong calves and thighs, across a toned stomach and chest to rest on a bemused, handsome face. “Oh no! I was - well, this is embarrassing, but I swear I wasn’t staring at you drooling or anything. I was studying your form actually.”

He’s talking too fast, possibly can’t be understood, waving his hands wildly infront of his face to try and ward off the idea of him being a thirsty creeper (not that he wasn’t, you know, admiring just a little). Really he wants to know how to do a proper work out to one day, hopefully, look like _**that**_. The guy, Sawamura he heard someone call him once, has been going to the same gym for the last two months. Tanaka has been researching and cataloging the routine the other man followed, wondering if he ever entered competitions, if he was a model or an actor, did he eat ten eggs for breakfast every morning. So maybe it was a bit obsessive, but Tanaka wasn’t trying to be creepy, really, he was intrigued.

A raised brow as he is regarded with a small level of skepticism. “You want to join me?”

“You… would teach me?” Tanaka’s eyes widened with excitement.

“Well, if you want to learn, sure. I used to be a personal trainer… just don’t drool.”


	31. Osamu/Hinata (side Atsumu/Kageyama)

55\. my twin clearly did something to piss you off, but you obviously don’t know I’m a twin so I’m listening to you tell me how much of an asshole I am and am very amused and it’s making you angrier  
Pairing : Osamu/Hinata (+Atsumu/Kageyama)

“You’re a jerk!” The rant was still going as it seemed the short, orange boy had an endless supply of energy with his flailing arms and jumping in place.

It was cute, in a strangely adorable way that didn’t bother or annoy Osamu as much as it probably should have. He doubted if it was anyone else, that he’d be inclined to stand there and listen. Well, he wasn’t exactly listening, more like observing in interest. No doubt this was his twin’s doing, Atsumu had a reputation and habit of making trouble.

“What’s your name again?” He was honestly curious and had missed it the first time the other had run up on him and was talking to fast to get a clear idea of what was going on.

“Hinata! And I’m Kageyama’s bestfriend!”

_Ah_, he mentally rolls his eyes. Now everything clicks into place. Kageyama was a friend of the twins, but recently Atsumu had finally convinced their obliviously blunt friend to date him. Osamu had unfortunately been present during several dates and seen the way their relationship was slowly growing, how Atsumu appeared excited that he could make Kageyama flustered at the drop of a hat. It was sickeningly sweet.

“What did my brother do now?”

“B-brother?” Hinata asks in confusion. He tilts his head like an inquiring bird. Very cute.

“Yeah, I have a twin. That’s the guy you should be mad at.”

A deep bow of apology follows and Osamu is oddly fascinated by the back of Hinata’s neck and the skin that he can see peeking out from under a T-shirt. “I didn’t know! I’m so sorry!”

He shrugs. It’s not like he’s angry, infact he’s pretty amused. “Did they have a fight?”

“Kageyama has been freaking out all day!” Hinata straightens, back to his lively self.

Osamu hums,” Let them work it out. Atsumu probably kissed him finally. He’s been working up the courage all week… and you can apologize by having lunch with me.”


	32. Kuroo/Yaku

56\. you called me mean things when we were in kindergarten and then moved away but we just crashed into each other on campus and I’m short with you because I haven’t forgotten  
Pairing : Kuroo/Yaku

The wall he crashes into is warm and made of muscle, tall enough to piss him off as he steps back and shakes his head. “Watch where you’re -”

“Yakkun?”

He stops, looks up and there is a familiar fringe of black hair, cat-like eyes, the curve of a scheming smile. “Rooster Head.”

A dramatic pout. “That’s not my name!”

“And that’s not mine,” Yaku deadpans. Of all places to find _him_ it would have to be at college after years of not seeing each other. Yaku still held onto the memory in kindergarten when Kuroo had called him some mean names like _gremlin_ and _poop sniffer_. To a kid in kindergarten trying to make friends, it had devastated him at the time. Then Kuroo had moved away, leaving the stinging words behind. And Yaku knew a thing or two about holding onto grudges.

Kuroo looks him over, being stupidly obvious while he grins. “You got cute. What’s it been? Ten years? And we still recognized each other.”

“Twelve. Not surprisingly, you’ve gotten uglier.”

Mouth agape, Kuroo stares for a moment. “You got snarkier too. I like that.”

Giving his old not-so-friend a withering look, Yaku hitches his bag higher up a shoulder and starts walking again, passed the other. “Don’t get used to hearing it.”

“Why not?” And, damn him, Kuroo’s long legs easily caught and kept up with Yaku’s stride. He didn’t appear to be in any hurry to scurry off to somewhere else. “We should get reacquainted. You still like volleyball, right?”

That makes him pause. He remembers he has a class to get to and picks up the pace quickly. “So what? Why does that matter?” _And why do you still remember?_

“We’ve got a club on campus. Maybe you’d like to join.”

Something pangs in Yaku’s heart, but bitter bile spits from his throat instead of being grateful for the invitation. He steps infront of Kuroo to say,” Not happening. Leave me alone.”

Then he spins on his heels and marches out of sight. He doesn’t understand why he feels a little mad at himself for turning Kuroo down. He doesn’t understand why he feels sad and alone in this new journey he’s taken at a college full of people he doesn’t know.

Maybe he could use a friend. And maybe he just turned down the only option for one. But his mind swam with a hurtful memory and Yaku tucks away the desire to turn back around.


	33. Asahi/Nishinoya (side Daichi/Suga)

70\. you’re planning my best friend’s wedding which we find out the day after you drunkenly hit on me at a bar and I reject you  
Pairing : Asahi/Nishinoya (Daichi/Suga’s wedding)

Asahi flags down the bartender for another beer, trying to loosen up after a long day of travelling. He was back in his hometown for his best friend’s wedding, nervous at being named best man and having to ponder over a speech for the last three months. He’s got his hair up in a ponytail, scratching a stubbled chin while reading over his final draft.

“Here’s your drink,” the bartender announces. Before Asahi can even touch it, he adds,” and a nice gentleman over there paid for it.”

That surprises him enough to look up from the paper, blinking up at the bartender (his nametag reads _Tanaka_) and follows the pointed finger to a shorter guy near the end of the bar. He’s looking at Asahi, hair partly-dyed, short and most certainly drunk if they lopsided smile is anything to go by. Easily flustered, he addresses Tanaka in slight panic.

“I can pay for the drink. You should give him his money back.”

“Take it as a gesture of affection,” winked Tanaka, moving away to attend to other patrons.

He lets out a whimper, not ready to face this tonight with so much going on in his head. His admirer hops off a stool to stumble closer until he climbs into the unoccupied seat next to Asahi. He looks triumphant as he beams a big smile, not noticing he’d forgotten his drink.

“Hi,” spoken a little breathlessly. Glassy eyes regard him, smitten and Asahi can’t help the fond feeling starting to unfurl in his chest. He’s relieved to see the other isn’t some kind of aggressive drunk at the very least.

“Hello,” he clears his throat,” thank you for the drink. You didn’t need to.”

“Angels should get drinks for free.”

Asahi almost chokes on his beer, wide-eyed at the proud smile directed at him. It’s oddly sweet, he’ll admit, but he didn’t come here looking for a hook-up. Clearing his throat again, trying to be firm, he says,” I’m no angel. And I’m only in town for a few days.”

He hopes that’ll be enough. _Take the hint. Please._

A frown replaces the large smile, face tilting down with a thoughtful expression, brows furrowed while thinking. The stranger’s head pops back up, a determined air about him now. “Then I’ll have to convince you to stay! Be my angel!”

Lips pinched together so he doesn’t laugh. It’s not out of pity or anything harsh, his amusement comes from a fond place. “I can’t be your angel.”

“But I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.”

“Sorry,” Asahi laments in sympathy, pockets his speech and finishes his beer. “You’ll have to pray for a new angel.”

\---

“I don’t like the purple,” Suga sighs as he puts his head in his hands. “I hate this, I feel so lost. I didn’t know weddings were so hard.”

His partner, Daichi, rubs a reassuring hand down his back. “Nishinoya will be here soon. He’ll know how to pick out the colors.”

“And what to tell the caterer. And what the seating arrangements should be. And-”

“Suga,” Daichi laughs, stopping the meltdown before it can get too far.

“It’s our wedding. I want it to be-”

“Perfection is an unrealistic ideal,” Asahi pipes up.

“You’re a wet blanket,” Suga grouses.

“He’s right. Let’s just go with nice. I’ve been waiting a long time for this, but I just want everyone to have a good time.” Daichi, ever the voice of reason, assures his fiance.

Asahi smiles, trying to show his support. He’s known them both for a long time, growing up in the same time and attending the same highschool had them grown close over the years. He’s happy for them, knows they deserve a beautiful wedding. The details would never matter as much as them tying the knot and being able to refer to each other as husband, he knew.

A chime signals the opening of the back door to Suga and Daichi’s cozy home. They’ve got two days to make the final preparations for the wedding at the end of the week. Apparently they knew a wedding planner and hoped with their consultation, they could breathe easier about the whole affair and wouldn’t have to postpone the wedding any further.

A happy face pops up in the kitchen, holding a big binder in both hands. “I made it. Traffic is awful at this time of day.”

“Nishinoya,” Suga’s voice sighs in relief as he stands, ready to hug his friend.

Asahi is frozen in his seat at the kitchen table, heart seizing when he makes eye contact with the newcomer. _It’s the guy from the bar._


	34. Oikawa/Iwaizumi

71\. you’re famous and you want to hide out in my bookstore which is fine except the stupid paparazzi won’t leave and now there’s a photo of us in the tabloids and they’re printing misinformation and why the fuck won’t you clear this up on your twitter account  
Pairing : Oikawa/Iwaizumi

“Please hide me!” A man pleaded as he slammed the door to the store shut, pressing his back into it.

Iwaizumi blinked, bemused and not at all humored by the sudden noise as he was interrupted from reading at the register. Tuesdays were very quiet days at his bookstore, leaving him to organize, clean and then catch up on whatever he was reading for the book club meeting on Friday. He hadn’t expected anyone to come in. He also hadn’t expected a handsome stranger to barge in asking for help.

“Are you being chased by the police?” Because Iwaizumi was not going to help a wanted criminal. He put down his book and leaned down a little to graze the bat he kept under the desk.

“What? No! Don’t you recognize me?” The man leapt forward, closing the distance until only the cashier desk separated them, pointing to his face. “I’m Oikawa Tooru!”

“... huh?”

The man - Oikawa’s face dropped into a heavy pout as he huffed, leaning elbows on the wood barrier infront of him. “I can’t believe this. I won’t believe this! Everyone knows me - and you don’t even have any magazines in here with my face on them!”

“This is a bookstore,” Iwaizumi explains, unamused.

“And I’m a hollywood star,” offense lacing the tone.

“So who are you hiding from?” Not that Iwaizumi cares or wants him to stay if he’s going to bring trouble. Not like he wants to watch the purse of those lips or the sweep of those long eyelashes. He’s not tempted to reach across the small space to wipe a wayward strand of pretty deep brown hair out of equally deep brown eyes.

“The paparazzi,” sighed out and it shouldn’t make Iwaizumi shiver in response.

“So you brought them here? Great. I was hoping for peace and quiet.”

“I’ll be much better company than some dusty, old books.”

Iwaizumi makes a face, picking up the book he’d been reading and is tempted to smack the side of Oikawa’s head. Sensing this, the other bolts up straight, smiling apologetically, hands raised submissively. Voices break their interaction, as people crowd the windows, flashes of light blinding them momentarily, camera lenses pushing against the glass separating them from the paparazzi.

Iwaizumi just wanted a quiet Tuesday.

\---

“The hell is this?” Iwaizumi hisses a week later, shaking the newest tabloid in Oikawa’s face. The headline reads _**Popular Star Oikawa’s Secret Lover : Who is He?**_ with a photo of Iwaizumi and Oikawa talking inside the bookstore. “Why haven’t you made a public statement?”

Oikawa looks oddly serene. He doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest, a finger reaching up to trace a feather light line across the headline. His eyes are shining and that doesn’t bode well for Iwaizumi. “Why? This works out really well for the both of us.”

“How the hell does this work out for me? Just go on Facebook and make a statement.”

A snort. “Facebook? Who even uses that anymore?”

Iwaizumi’s ears burn red, in anger or embarrassment or both. “I don’t know! What do you normally use for something like this?”

“Uh, twitter. Duh.”

“Then twitter it or something.”

“Tweet. You call it tweeting.”

Iwaizumi lets out a frustrated growl, tossing the paper down. He wants to rip it up, but he has to show some level of self-control. Oikawa watches him in amusement, shrugging.

“Do something about it!”

“How about a proposition?”

A blink, simmering anger turning cold in the wake of astonishment. “For what?”

“We keep this little rumor going… I visit the shop, it becomes popular, you pretend to be someone I’m seeing,” Oikawa raises a hand to stop the argument before it can surface,” which will benefit me in my own way. What do you say?”

“I don’t need your fame.”

“Maybe not. I could pay you for your time?”

A purse of lips as Iwaizumi remembered the pile of bills stacked on his kitchen counter.

Oikawa adds in,” Just a few dates and pictures. Maybe be my date to a few events. People would kill for a chance to go to a hollywood awards show.”

“Then let them squabble, I don’t want the spotlight.”

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa sing-songs, running a tongue across his bottom lip, smile taking on a sharper edge. “I could really use your help. Besides, I like you. I think we look good together.”

Iwaizumi flusters, turning his head in fake denial. The benefits are clear : money, fame, exclusivity towards many things he has yet to experience, and, if he wanted to count it, Oikawa. “So I’m just your fake boyfriend? I’m not exactly eye candy.”

“I’d have to disagree.” A hand reaches out to lay on top of Iwaizumi’s, thumb gentle in rubbing a small circle into his knuckles. Oikawa’s smile was rounded by softer edges, looked fond rather than conniving and Iwaizumi feels compelled to take a risk.

“Better not make me regret this.”


	35. Tendou/Semi

72\. you just hit me in the face with a snowball, what do you have to say for yourself, fucker?  
Pairing : Tendou/Semi

Semi hated winter on campus because his boots often got snow in them anyways, his coat barely kept out the chill if it was windy and sniffling every two seconds was not his idea of fun. Not to mention living on campus meant if he wanted to go from his dorm to anywhere else, he had to hope the paths were shoveled out or he’d be trudging through the snow.

He was on his way to the library, needed to use the computers there. Most people went home for winter break, leaving the campus empty saved for Semi, a few of his friends and anyone else that didn’t want to go or didn’t have anywhere to go. It wasn’t windy when he stepped out, but he still wound his scarf tight around his throat, the air misting with every breath. Part of the path was shovelled, but due to there being less staff on hand during breaks, most of it was covered in thick white snow. He huffed, careful to step on the solid parts so he doesn’t sink, grumbling under his breath the entire way.

A few feet from the library door, something pelts him from behind. He jumps, whirls around stares at a mischievous face. There is ridiculously red hair, the color reminiscent of a cartoon apple, uncannily wide grin and just as eerily wide eyes. Semi does not recognize him.

“You fucking threw snow at me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe the wind did it.” Obviously a tease. It makes Semi bristle.

“You fucker,” and Semi bends down to return the favor, cursing himself for not remembering his gloves,” are gonna regret this.”

That grin grows impossibly wider, almost deranged and the guy takes off running in the snow. Semi has a choice : to let him go or follow. He chooses revenge over peace, packing the snow in his hands as he gives chase. The guy has ridiculously long legs, but Semi has simmering determination, pushing his legs to pitch forward until he’s close enough to tackle the skinny, tall redhead to the cold ground.

Triumph ran hot through his blood, shoving the snowball onto the back of his target’s next, revelling in the responding howl. His hands are cold, numbness seeping up from fingertip to wrist. He plops his ass onto the cold ground, trying to ignore the way the snow melts under him. This allows the fiend to sit up too, still grinning maniacally.

“You aren’t as boring as I thought.” Semi is about to retort, brows drawn together, when a handful of snow is unceremoniously being pushed and dumped down the back of his shirt.


	36. Ushijima/Tendou

73\. I’m new to this place and you’re a tough, sort-of-asshole boss who seems to be extremely fair so when I speak up with an idea, you simply tell me to “do it” without any further discussion and I’m freaking out???  
Pairing : Ushijima/Tendou

He was screwed. Royally, undoubtedly, painfully screwed.

“How did you get this job again,” Shirabu drawls from his desk, typing away like Tendou’s world isn’t ending, like he isn’t ready to slam his head against their cubicle walls until he passes out.

“I have no idea,” he whines.

And really, he didn’t. He applied for the office job because he was desperately in need for money after being laid off his previous job and the dip in art commissions made paying bills a literal nightmare. He didn’t think he was as good as a computer programmer and salesperson as someone like Shirabu, who’d been with the company for two years and knew the ins and outs. Tendou just liked getting paid, drinking and eating the free coffee and cookies, and catching up on all the free entertainment around the office (a.k.a. all the gossip and rumors).

Now he was saddled with heavy responsibility, having to come up with a new program and storage system that prioritized and organized all the important documentation the company needed at a snap of the fingers for business. It was nerve-wracking on it’s own, but what really scared Tendou was his humorless, no-nonsense boss, Ushijima.

“He might not fire you. Demote you, maybe.”

“Your confidence and support is like rainbows and unicorns,” Tendou jokes, trying his hardest not to bite his nails.

“Ask Reon for advice. He’s known Ushijima longer than any of us and he’ll know what specifics you’re likely to need when making the new program.”

It was fair advice, Reon had started around the time Ushijima had been promoted and worked alongside each other for the past seven years. If anyone knew what was going on in the big head of Ushijima’s, it was Reon. But that felt like cheating and Tendou had at least a little pride.

“Why couldn’t he have picked you to do it,” he complains.

The typing pauses and a quick glance reveals that Shirabu’s face took on a harder, sulkier look. Everyone knew he admired Ushijima, maybe even had a big, fat crush on him (at least Tendou thought so). If anyone was going to be picked for this assignment, it made sense that it would be Shirabu… imagine both their surprise when it was announced to be in Tendou’s hands.

The typing slowly comes back, and Tendou sighs. That’s all the sympathy and help he’s going to get. Time to get to work.

\---

Before the meeting he is jittery as hell, the moment he sits down, the fidgeting starts. Semi glares at the tapping of his fingers, clears his throat loudly as he gives Tendou a pointed look. He smiles sheepishly, mumbling a quiet “sorry, Semi-Semi”, but he’s right back to it ten seconds later.

He’s suffocating in his suit, pulls the tie a little as if that’s the reason he is shaking and can hardly breathe. There’s quiet chatter he can focus on : Reon smiling as Goshiki excitedly talks about his baking exploits, Semi and Shirabu’s hushed banter of thorny insults, Taichi is tapping on his phone looking bored. All goes silent when Ushijima walks in, closing the door behind him with a definitive click, sealing Tendou’s doom.

He gulps.

Ten minutes after Reon gives his financial report for the month, it’s his time to shine. He stands up, lanky, awkward limbs hanging at his sides as he tries not to shake right through the floor while meeting Ushijima’s dead-straight stare.

“Comparisons with the previous program show…”

Voice trembling at the start, Tendou became firmer the longer he talked, confident in his research and the problems as well as solutions he had found. He wavered once, and that was only because of the slight smile he _thought_ he saw Ushijima had for a short moment.

“My conclusion is to use this type of software that’ll make programming easier and run it faster. The options point to it also being more efficient in accessing data.”

“Well done. You’ve permission to proceed with your project plan,” his boss’s deep baritone praises with a simple nod.

Tendou doesn’t faint, but he does fall back into his chair maybe a little too hard in shock. He pulled this thing off and he was even praised by the most hardass boss he knows. He aimed a celebratory grin at Shirabu who looks a little jealous. Fucking win.


	37. Tendou/Semi

81\. you’re the divorce lawyer for my client’s spouse but these two have been squabbling like immature children and you don’t seem to be taking this case seriously and I’m stressing  
Pairing : Semi/Tendou

Semi is two seconds away from either pulling all his hair out or jumping out the window. The raised, shrieking, angry voices of his client and her spouse were sharp nails raking down his eardrums with ferocious force. The meeting had gone nowhere and the last hour felt wasted when there was no negotiating between the two. Semi was used to divorce cases getting ugly, this certainly was not his first, but the immense vitriol he was witnessing made this the worst divorce case he’d ever taken.

Across from him, chin in hand, was the opposite lawyer sitting there looking amused and unperturbed. Semi couldn’t fathom how he wasn't on the verge of clawing his ears off too. Tendou, as he introduced himself, didn’t look particularly bothered by anything. His suit was wrinkled, his hair was styled in large, mostly likely gelled up spikes of red and the constant grin on his face indicated that he wasn’t taking anything seriously and here Semi was stressed to find some kind of medium to end this whole affair as soon as possible.

A notepad slid across the table, stopped by knocking into Semi’s fingers. He glanced up at the mischievous smile of the opposing lawyer, then looked down to read a short message.

_Want a coffee after this? My treat._

Semi has enough elegance and self-control to not snort. He knows the squabbling isn’t done based on the traded insults currently being thrown around : “_you lied about the value of our house, you shit_”, “_can’t believe I married an idiot who can’t count past two_”, and “_I know you slept with that hussy across the street_”. Semi slips the pen from his jacket pocket out to scribble back then toss the notepad back.

_With you? You’re out of your mind._

The notepad comes back with the same chicken scratch.

_I can get us out of here faster if you agree._

That is intriguing and Semi is curious to know what the other could possibly due to put a wrap on this circus show. It’s not part of the lawyer code and he’d probably get chewed out if his company ever heard about this. He fails to suppress a smile as he looks up and nods.


	38. Tsukishima/Kenma

85\. I discover my significant other is cheating on me with you, so when I go to confront you, you’re pissed because apparently, you didn’t know either  
Pairing : Tsukishima/Kenma (+ onesided Kuroo/Yachi)

“You… didn’t know?”

“No,” hisses Tsukishima, furious and dialing the cheater’s number.

Kenma was shocked. He’d expected Tsukishima to sneer at him, mock him, tell him to stop wasting his time. His impassive mask broke into surprise… and then heartbreak once again. Kuroo, his boyfriend, his bestfriend since they were children, had hurt two hearts carelessly with his decisions. Kenma had never known Kuroo to be cruel, making this beyond his understanding of someone he thought he knew.

Finding out he was being cheated on felt like being stabbed. He’d only come to confront Tsukishima for his own pride and to confirm suspicion. Now he was being ushered to sit down, handed a glass of water, all while Tsukishima chews out Kuroo on the phone. It’s a bit surreal, watching everything like he would a TV show, except he’s one of the stars.

“And you think that’s justified?” Tsukishima is a raging typhoon, a bite to his words that could cut into bone. “You told me Kenma was your bestfriend. Did you lie about that too?”

It’s strange having someone else other than Kuroo be angry for him. When he’d been bullied in his youth, Kuroo had been there. When he was about to give on playing volleyball, Kuroo had been there. When he’d almost given up on his art degree, Kuroo had been there.

Where was Kuroo now that his heart was bleeding?

Tsukishima goes quiet for a moment, listening. And then a new thunder is born.

“Is this about Yachi? I get it, you’re in love with her. That doesn’t mean because you’re lonely and lost about what to do that you can use the people around you. You promised me this wasn’t a fling. You said you wanted to try it out, that we’d work things through.”

Funny how Kenma can picture it. The sit down, Kuroo’s brand of beseeching, laying out his emotions and his ideas… Kenma never thought he would ever have to be afraid of falling into a trap. He’d told Kenma the same things, no doubt, the now unveiled lies.

Yachi was always Kuroo’s first choice, first love. Kenma had to sit through hours of Kuroo’s ramblings, his frustrations and hopes and finally his tears. Rejection was never easy for anyone to face. The reaction, however, to date people to fill that hole was not the best solution.

“Kenma?” It takes a second to realize Tsukishima is not talking to him, but into the phone. “He’s with me and I’m not giving him back… No, don’t you _dare_ come over here!”

Squeezing the cup in his hands, Kenma trembles. He doesn’t realize he’s crying until a teardrop falls off his chin and splashes into the liquid at his fingertips. The emotions he’d held tightly in his chest on the way over now overflow and spill. He does not want to see Kuroo, can’t bear the betrayal head on just yet ; he’ll have to eventually, he knows.

“Will you - fuck, I’m hanging up. If I see your face, I’m going to break it.”

The cup is taken from his grasp, placed on a coffee table and suddenly there is someone sitting next to Kenma, listening to his quiet whimper, witness to his silent pain. There is hesitation before Tsukishima reaches out to touch him, thumb wiping away one tear, then two and three and four and more, more, more. When Kenma possesses the need to look up, to make eye contact with his new supporter, he sees that Tsukishima is crying too.


	39. Oikawa/Iwaizumi

Iwaizumi wasn’t fond of weddings or engagement parties. They were often cheesy, overpriced and for attention seekers in his opinion. Also he had to wear a suit and the last time he’d worn one was to his father’s funeral. So why is he here? As a P.I. he doesn’t get to be too picky about the cases he takes ; everybody has bills and a stomach to feed, afterall.

The case itself had been rather simple : concerned parents wanted information dug up about their son’s new fiance. Oikawa Tooru, the son, was described as a flirtatious, romantic type, falling for a new face every month. The suspicions about the new girlfriend turned possible daughter-in-law had raised their hackles high enough to seek out Iwaizumi’s help.

In summary, what he’d found was not good. And that is how Iwaizumi became an impromptu wedding crasher.

It was, to put it mildly, a shitshow. A lot of accusations, screaming, some things being thrown. In the end, ex-fiance is kicked out, mascara ruined and cupid’s bow lips turning down into a harsh frown. He thought after the blow out, he could leave... but a hand grabbed his arm and he’d been led inside Tooru’s house for some chit chat.

And that’s how he ended up with coffee in the kitchen.

“Tell me how you knew.”

Iwaizumi meets the intense gaze. “I realized after talking to one of the neighbors. They told me your ex-fiance’s ‘friend’ was not a cousin, that they’d been highschool sweethearts for as long as she could remember. Seemed strange he was still coming to her childhood home when no one else was around.”

A bitter laugh. “I actually believed her. That he was nothing more than a friend.”

“You didn’t deserve that,” Iwaizumi tries to console. He does feel bad, especially now that he sees that Oikawa isn’t just a trust fund baby, but someone making his way through the world one step at a time, hoping not to get burned by the people he chooses to trust. “I knew you’d need picture proof so I found a vantage point to see them on the veranda.”

“You’re good with a camera,” Oikawa smiles, a teasing edge to his tone. “Too bad I didn’t hire you to do the engagement pictures. Not that it matters now.”

He shrugs, unsure and a little awkward about what to say. “Sorry to ruin it.”

“I think you gave me a better gift,” hummed as a finger taps the table,” and I get the bonus of seeing you in that dreadful suit. Had a laugh the first time I saw you walk in.”

His cheeks burn red, grumbling under his breath something about ‘_rich brats_’ and ‘_you’re welcome, asshole_’. It makes Oikawa chuckle, placing a chin into his palm, observing the man across from him. How interesting that they would be fated to meet like this.

“I suppose you’ll find a new fiance soon enough.”

“Well, I think I have a perfect candidate,” Oikawa purrs and when Iwaizumi looks up, that gaze holds a different brand of intensity he’s not sure he’s ready for.


	40. Asahi/Nishinoya

91\. you’re my boss’ kid and when we’re introduced, I realized that you’re the awkward one-night-stand I had three years ago (an infamous story my friends still tease me about to this day) and you don’t seem to remember me  
Pairing : Asahi/Nishinoya

“Thank you for this opportunity, Mr. Nishinoya.”

“Always so polite and courteous. That’s what I like about you, Asahi. You’re level-headed… which makes you perfect for this new project.”

Asahi stood ramrod straight as his boss rounded the large, wooden desk, speaking face to face (well, as close as they could get with Asahi’s significant height) with him. Now that the property had been sold to the company, Asahi’s skills in design and decorating would come in handy at renovating a new facility for their brand. Being co-head of the project was a great honor and the boss’s praise calmed most of Asahi’s nerves about being good enough for the job. The confidence Mr. Nishinoya exuded was contagious, leaving nothing, but a desire to push forward.

“I hope you’ll understand,” Mr. Nishinoya continued,” that you’ll have to answer to my son as appointed leader. I promise you, he is good at what he does and with you two together the project will run smoother. Considering our deadline, it is the best decision to make.”

Asahi understood. While he had never met the infamous son, his boss kept two pictures of his family, one when his son was born and another on his son’s tenth birthday. The son was the pride and joy of the Nishinoya family, rising through the ranks of the company quickly not from status, but hard work. Asahi respected his boss and expected the same of his heir.

“Father!” A bright voice greets after the door opens, a secretary ushering a newcomer.

“Ah, just in time, Yuu. I want you to meet Asahi Azumane, your partner for the project.”

Asahi turned to formally bow and introduce himself, however, shock stills him halfway through bending. Infront of him is a familiar face, memory of an awkward night flashes before him, an infamous story among his friends from three years ago that had made him the subject of jokes and teases long after its telling. Nishisnoya Yuu is still short, keeps his hair partly dyed, eyes bright and smile wide, exuding confidence and unlimited energy, being just like Asahi remembered… from their one night stand years ago.

He waits for the inevitable, for the embarrassment to strike them both. It never comes and Asahi is belatedly follows through with his bow just as the young Nishinoya steps forth to politely greet and introduce himself as well. When they straighten and look each other in the eye again, there is no recognition on the other’s part. Asahi is equal parts mortified and relieved.

“I’m looking forward to working with you, Asahi-san!”


	41. Oikawa/Iwaizumi & Kuroo/Yaku

93\. I hire your matchmaking services but all the people you set me up with are horrible and I’m demanding a refund and you’re asking me for one more chance??? what are you going to do? be my date?   
Pairing : Oikawa/Iwaizumi & Kuroo/Yaku

1\. Oikawa/Iwaizumi

“This is stupid.”

“It’s not stupid!” Oikawa sighs dramatically, irritation clear on his face. “My matchmaking service has paired up hundreds of couples and our success rate is as high as 87% -”

Iwaizumi wiggles a finger in his ear, unimpressed. “I’m not here to hear your spiel, Dumbkawa. You wanted to set me up, you talked all this game and every date has been horrible.”

“You didn’t like that girl with the pink hair?”

“She had a whiny voice. Like you.”

“The tall guy I set you up with? He liked most of the same interests as you.”

“He talked about himself too much. Just like you.”

“Okay, then the -”

“If you’re about to say that model, that date was unbearable.”

“He was nearly as gorgeous as me!”

Iwaizumi gives a pointed look. “And couldn’t stop checking a hand mirror he had in his pocket. Always fussing with his hair. Fished for compliments every other minute.”

“What’s wrong with wanting to be complimented,” Oikawa grumbles.

“That’s something _you_ value. They all had traits of you, I noticed. The awful ones.”

“Hey!” Oikawa pouts, offended. “So you’re saying you don’t like me?”

Iwaizumi looks at his bestfriend he’s harbored a crush on since middle school. What a ridiculous question. “I didn’t say that. I’ve been your friend this long, haven’t I?”

Oikawa has a thoughtful expression, the kind that forebodes possible trouble. “Then… how about a date with me?”

Iwaizumi sputters for a moment, wills the flush from his face. “W-what?”

Oikawa’s face colors a deep red too, cheeks puffed like cherries. “Well, maybe it’s something you’re doing! Maybe that’s why you aren’t connecting with anyone. Are you even trying when you go out with them?”

“I’m not the problem!”

“We’ll see about that,” Oikawa sniffed.

2\. Kuroo/Yaku

Yaku enters the small restaurant on Fifth Avenue, removes his coat and signals for staff to take him to a reserved table under ‘_Kuro_’. He expects to meet with a stranger, have a nice meal, be a part of some dull chatter and hopefully find something worth a second date.

It is not, as it turns out, a stranger waiting for him at the reserved table. He stops just short of the booth, jaw dropping then snapping shut with a harsh click. He’s angry as he storms the rest of the way there. “No! No, no and no! Kuroo!”

A lazy smirk is all he’s able to pull out as a reaction. “Don’t make a scene now, Yakkun. Have a seat so we can get started. Shouldn’t be too difficult since we know each other.”

He’s about to have another outburst when he notices all the eyes on him and rethinks his approach. He sits across from his tormentor and glares. Their waitress comes over with menus and tells them to take a minute, reading the hostile air. It’s a tense few minutes before Kuroo breaks the silence in a very Kuroo-fashion.

“Don’t get too cute or I’ll start playing footsies with you under the table.”

“Don’t you dare,” Yaku hisses, feet crowding closer to his seat. “Explain yourself! Why are you here? You told me you set me up on another date -”

“And I am offering myself. Best matchmaker can get you.”

“I don’t want to date _you_!”

“And why not? In all my years, Yaku,” and the name drop shows seriousness as Kuroo puts his elbows on the table and leans forward, mouth curved in something less teasing and more genuine,” I have never met someone as compatible with me as you.”

It takes a second for Yaku’s brain to think of what to say. “As flattering as that may sound to you, I don’t think this is appropriate for your services.”

“Then consider it not a service. You won’t be charged for this… I just want you to have a taste, get you to understand. Maybe it’s meant to be... us.”


	42. Kuroo/Yaku

99\. I overhear your list of impossible qualities/requirements you want in a person, so I feel the need to give you a piece of my mind but I’m realizing that I might fit your list as I argue  
Pairing : Kuroo/Yaku

_It’s none of my business_, Yaku tells himself. _Eavesdropping is impolite._

“You have to have a standard. They gotta be cute, you know? They should be short, have short hair too, want to see their face. Expressions! You don’t want to date a robot.”

Yaku can’t help, but roll his eyes. He hates the way people think they can judge people, place expectations on strangers instead of being open about getting to know different types of people. How can someone date based on looks alone?

“And when they get angry? Puffed cheeks like a chipmunk, red like roses? That’s the cutest shit I’ve ever seen. And freckles! Freckles are always a bonus if you can find that.”

“You have a very specific standard, Kuroo-senpai,” a voice filled with confusion says.

“I know what I want and I want to have someone that knows what they want. Why bother dating someone you don’t find attractive or fits what you’re looking for? Sure there’s tons of different people, Inuoka-kun! Plenty of options to explore… but once you find that standard, man is it going to be hard to look at anyone else.”

_Arrogant idiot_. Yaku angrily sips at his water, trying not to listen to the occupants in the booth at his back. _He has no idea what he’s talking about. Don’t give your kouhais poor advice!_

“Mm, what I wouldn’t do to get my hands on a little feisty kitten.”

Kai shoots him a look from across their table, partly in amusement. He can also clearly hear it, the guy is talking too loud. He’s imploring with his eyebrows for Yaku not to get involved.

That doesn’t happen.

Yaku stands and whirls around, somehow, as if magnetized, immediately stares into the eyes of this Kuroo person. “You,” he points a finger in what he hopes is a reproaching manner,” are talking to loud of your ridiculous standards! Some people are trying to eat.”

“Mhm,” is hummed and Yaku dares not look at the three other occupants of the booth who are staring at him in interest,” and what were those?”

“Short.”

“Check.”

“No long hair - which is dumb.”

“Check.”

“Expressive because you’re weird about them not being the terminator.”

“Ohh, very good. Check, check!”

Becoming increasingly annoyed, he spits,” With freckles.”

“Oh, I do love those,” Kuroo is grinning at him wide and attentive.

“And feisty because you’re a weird masochist!”

“Ah, you really know me, kitten. You forgot one point, however.”

“What,” he snaps, unaware of drawing closer until he’s next to Kuroo, glaring down at his face, unafraid of who may be watching, ready to argue some more.

And that’s when Kuroo stands, showcasing his height, towering over Yaku. It would be unnerving if he wasn’t used to it, if he gave two shits about intimidation. He has swiped the legs out of people this tall before, he’s ready to do it again if he must, whatever it takes to get this asshole down on his level.

Kuroo leans down a little, making Yaku tense and grit his teeth. He still has to look up into the other’s eyes, stand his ground while he’s observed and judged. The grin is still there, taunting him, teasing him with words Kuroo has yet to say. The anticipation manifests like static between them in the impending silence.

“Cute,” Kuroo murmurs, a softer tone and Yaku feels surprised by the way he’s being looked at now. Realization hits hard the longer Kuroo stares, dawning on him like cold water splashed in his face.

“You’re… talking about me.”

“Took you long enough to finally acknowledge me. I noticed you when you walked in.”

His face burns with scorching heat, from embarrassment or flattery or anger, he can’t be certain. All he knows is that people have been watching and witnessed them. “I’m going to kick you in the balls for this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap folks! Thank you if you made it this far into reading!

**Author's Note:**

> I may possibly explore some of these more and write proper fics. If you're interested, come talk to me on tumblr @rainbowredrobin!


End file.
